


Roses Dipped In Gold

by BeautifulUnseen



Series: Roses Dipped In Gold [1]
Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Dystopia, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-24
Updated: 2017-09-10
Packaged: 2018-11-04 14:45:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 23
Words: 100,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10993080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeautifulUnseen/pseuds/BeautifulUnseen
Summary: In a world where the Class system is strict and unrelenting, Dalton Academy is a haven away from it all. Still, Kurt shuts himself off from others to avoid unnecessary heartbreak. Blaine, an Elite member of society, is going to try his hardest to change that, but does he know who Kurt really is?





	1. Chapter 1

 

**Prologue**

If he could do it all again, knowing how it ended, would he?

Would he have stolen those kisses? Made those promises? Said those words?

Now there were no more kisses to steal, no more promises to make, and no more words to say.

But the memories of those promises, those words, those kisses...those were enough to fill the seemingly bottomless hole in his heart.

So, if given the chance, would he do it all again?

Absolutely.

**Chapter One**

A fresh start. That's all seventeen-year-old Blaine wanted. A new place where nobody knew him. Was that too much to ask? Apparently it was.

He had only been at Dalton Academy for 4 hours, and already the rumors were swirling.

_Oh my gosh, is that…?_

_Look, I think it's him!_

_Don't look now, but he's behind you...I said don't look!_

Blaine knew exactly how it would go. It was always the same.

It would begin with the whispered conversations and covert pointing; the other students talking secretly to each other about who he was without ever acruelly saying who he was. They would get dangerously close to breaking that rule, but would pull back from the brink just as the forbidden words were about to fall off their lips. _Anderson. Council. Elite._ The gossip would get worse before it got better.

Along with the whispers came the stares. All eyes were on him as if he were on exhibit in a zoo. Some stares were low and fleeting as their casters tried to maintain some dignity, while others were bold and lingering.

Many of the braver students would approach Blaine and attempt to make conversation that they hoped would lead to friendship. It was hard to make friends, though, when most everyone had an ulterior motive for getting to know him. He had learned that the hard way. Being an Elite member of High Class society, even other Elites wanted his connections rather than his actual friendship. Plus, they were mostly insufferable, self-absorbed...well...elitists. The name seemed fitting.

As much as he wanted to retreat and avoid having to speak to anyone, Blaine was bred and raised to be polite and respectful to others. _That is how you gain power_ , his father always told him, _by making people like you_. So Blaine endured the awkward conversations and false enthusiasm because that was all he knew how to do. It was not like he had many real friends to spend time with, anyway.

By the time Blaine finished navigating his way through the maze that was Dalton's corridor system and finally located the cafeteria, it was clear that word had spread like wildfire. Dozens of pairs of eyes were trained on him as he grabbed a tray and loaded it with food that would probably go uneaten.

Blaine scanned the room looking for any familiar faces. He knew of at least one other person who attended Dalton, though he had not seen her yet today. He and Renna had known each other since they were children, and he hoped that she would be in the cafeteria to save him from sitting alone, an act that would inevitably invite unwelcome strangers to join him.

But alas, it looked as though he would be dining alone, trying his best to ignore the stares and drown out the whispered rumors.

Of course, all of the rumors were true. It was hard to hide your identity when your family was as prominent as Blaine's. As strict as Dalton's rules were to protect student anonymity, the administration was helpless to prevent its students from watching the news - it was their only connection to the outside world. And Blaine's family frequented the news.

"Hi," a soft female voice said as its owner slipped onto the bench next to Blaine. He looked up. She batted her eyelashes and gave a coy smile. "Mind if I sit here?"

Two boys, upon seeing the girl approach him, summoned the courage they required to join Blaine as well. They started up a light conversation that somehow managed to highlight their strengths and accomplishments.

And so it began. Blaine sighed, resigned. Such was the life of the Chancellor's son.

\---

Kurt very much preferred his room to the cafeteria for mealtimes, especially on days like today when everyone was atwitter about the new kid and his presumed background.

Many people speculated, but Kurt knew for a fact that the rumors were true. Blaine the new kid was Blaine Anderson, son of the Chancellor. And Kurt could not care less. In fact, he hoped his path never crossed with the kid born into the family at the forefront of the Class separation movement. Injustice was everywhere around Kurt - surrounding him, filling him, drowning him. He did not need it brought to him here, too, in this place that was supposed to create an equal opportunity for all children under eighteen.

Kurt longed to call his father, who he could rant to for hours about how screwed up their society was, but he could not. Students were not allowed any physical or verbal contact with their families during the school year. It was meant to help protect student identities, as were all of the academy rules. They were allowed to write letters, but there was no way Kurt would put his thoughts in writing. He was pretty outspoken about his beliefs, and they had gotten him in trouble a few too many times.

No, he would yet again keep to himself.

Even surrounded by hundreds of other people his age, Kurt lived a fairly solitary life at Dalton. Make no mistake, though; it was of his own design that he lived that way. He did not see the point in making friendships when they could be over the second they graduated from the artificial environment of Dalton, when they would be thrust out into the real world and forced to adhere to the harsh Class laws and turn their backs on each other. Would it not be heartbreaking for two people to become inseparable only to find out, come graduation, that one of them was Low Class and one was High Class and they would never be allowed to speak to each other on any sort of personal level again?

So Kurt shut himself off from everybody around him. He ate on his own, did not attend any social functions, and even managed to have a dormitory room to himself. (He may have grossly exaggerated his less compatible traits and sent roommate after roommate running. The school eventually stopped assigning other people to his room. Kurt was pretty sure it was a deliberate oversight, but he was not complaining.) But despite deliberately blocking himself off, Kurt often found himself lonely.

He did have one friend at Dalton...or maybe she would be considered more of a friendly acquaintance. Kurt never let anyone close enough to become friends with him.

It was undeniable that Renna was a joy to be around. Kurt tried keeping his distance from her at first, like he did with everyone else, but she was just so friendly and persistent and supported him standing up for what he believed in. So he conceded, and now they would sit together in classes, walk in the halls together, and sometimes even spend down time together, which was more than Kurt vowed he would ever do with someone in this place.

Kurt heard the bell ring, signaling the five minute warning for afternoon classes. He gathered up his trash and headed to chemistry, reminding himself that each day he endured brought him one step closer to going back home, where his real life would start.

\---

Blaine wished he could put a paper bag over his head. It seemed that every student in the entire school had heard some form of rumor about him during the lunch period, and the stares were as intense as ever. The gossip had shifted from who he was to what he had done. Once students were assigned to an academy, they did not leave. Not unless they were expelled for breaking the rules.

Blaine breathed a sigh of relief when he located the lab and sat down in the corner, away from most of his curious classmates. It was only when he looked up to see what the professor had written on the chalkboard that he noticed he had sat directly across from someone. Someone downright stunning with perfect chestnut hair, flawless pale skin, and beautiful eyes. It was several moments before Blaine realized he had been staring at the boy with his mouth slightly open. And now he had been caught doing it.

The other boy, who had glanced up to see him staring, raised his eyebrows, then turned around so that his back was to Blaine.

Blaine felt an indescribable pull toward this boy. It could have been that he was the only person in the entire school who hadn't ogled Blaine like he had three heads. It could have been that he didn't seem to know or care who Blaine was or what he had done to get here. But more likely, it was the ethereal beauty, the sadness behind his eyes, and the confidence and strength this boy exuded.

"My name is Blaine." The words tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop them.

The boy, seeming to know he was being spoken to, looked back over his shoulder for a brief second and said "Hi" before turning back around. Even his voice was beautiful.

Blaine's heart was hammering with excitement. He smiled broadly to himself.

Being ignored had never felt so nice.

\---

It surprised Kurt more than he wished it would have that someone sat across from him when there were plenty of open spaces around. In his second year at Dalton, the other students started to realize that Kurt was not interested in making friends. Gradually, people stopped attempting to make conversation, then they stopped waving or smiling as they passed in the hall, then they stopped making eye contact altogether. It did not bother Kurt most of the time. Not really. He had made it that way. And besides, Kurt thrived on being observant, and without anyone's eyes on him, he managed to see everything.

Kurt watched the boy who sat down in the chair across from him. Of course. Him. In the regular world, he was known as Blaine Anderson. But in the academies, students shed their last names to avoid recognition or prejudice based on family names. So here, he would be known simply as Blaine.

Kurt had a hard time peeling his eyes off of Blaine. Sure, he had seen him on television before, but TV did not do the boy justice. If Kurt had ever allowed himself to picture his perfect man, the vision would look remarkably like Blaine.

Kurt groaned internally. There was no chance he could ever let himself have anything with Blaine, even if Blaine was interested. Which he would not be. Kurt, however, did not have any self-imposed rules saying he was not allowed to indulge a little every now and then, so he continued to watch the beautiful human across from him.

Almost an entire minute passed before the boy began to look up, forcing Kurt to drop his eyes. Kurt expected to feel the boy's gaze slide over his face to the next person, or even shoot through him to someone more exciting, but that was not what happened. Blaine did not look away. When he could not take the heavy feeling of Blaine's stare anymore, Kurt returned the look. Blaine flushed slightly, shutting his mouth that had been agape.

Kurt raised his eyebrows with an offhanded curiosity, and wheeled around to face the other direction. Nobody besides Renna had looked at him in so long. Certainly Renna had never looked at him like _that_.

 _Shut it down. You can't,_ he told himself.

Breaking his train of thought, the boy spoke.

"My name is Blaine."

Kurt fought the smile that was tugging at his lips. He looked back to see, much to his unexpected pleasure, that Blaine was still staring. "Hi."

Kurt turned back around and the urge to smile won out.

Being noticed had never felt so nice.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Minor mentions of violence.
> 
> Sorry for any weird errors. I’m trying to catch them all, but autocorrect is a bitch.

 

**Ordinance 242**

All citizens, depending on family Class status, are designated Low, Middle, or High Class at birth.

Wristbands in the color corresponding to the Class (yellow for Low Class, green for Middle Class, purple for High Class) will be issued and must be worn at all times.

**Ordinance 291**

Interclass interactions are not permitted unless the interaction is business-related. Violations will result in a fine of $1000. Repeat violations will be subject to further punishment to be determined by the Chancellor. 

**Ordinance 463**

All children, beginning at age five, will be assigned an academy, where they will attend and board from September through June until their eighteenth year. Students are to follow the rules outlined by their academy, or face consequences outlined in the academy contract.

\---

_Everything was dark. Everything was dark and dizzy and pain, pain, pain…_

_Something hard crashed into his leg. Surely the bone had broken upon impact._

_He feebly strained against the arms that held him down. "Please. Stop."_

_"Tell us and we will," a voice demanded._

_"No, no, no," he whimpered._

_A fist connected with his stomach. He vomited._ Help me _, he thought. Nobody helped him._

_"Just tell us."_

_"Why me?" He squeaked out._

_"We know who you are. We know what you've done."_

_"No."_

_A twist of his arm. A crushing of his fingers. Pain, weakness, guilt…_

Blaine bolted upright in bed. He was covered in a sheen of sweat and he was shaking.

He glanced over to his roommate, who was still sound asleep in his bed, unaware that anything had happened.

The dorm room was suddenly too small and dark and confined. He had to get out. Now.

Blaine practically fell out of bed, blindly feeling his way around in the dark. He slid his feet into his academy-issued slippers and stepped out into the hallway. He stopped with his back against the door that he had shut behind him, hands on his knees, gasping for air. It was a little easier to breathe out here in the open, and after a while, removed from his nightmares, Blaine felt much better. There was no way he would be able to get back to sleep now, so he began to wander.

Walking upstairs and downstairs and around the halls, Blaine memorized the layout of dorm rooms, bathrooms, and study rooms. They were peaceful, these quiet, dim, empty halls.

Blaine looked around and realized he was on a floor he had previously not explored. He peeked into a few of the rooms, curious about what they held. Most looked like study rooms or meeting rooms, but one caught his attention. The door was heavy and old, and if he looked hard enough, Blaine could distinguish it from the others in the hallway. He wasn't sure what made him do it, but he threw his weight into this door, pushing it open. He bit back a gasp.

About fifteen years ago, the academies banned all Class-related activities. Certain activities were restricted to certain Classes, and therefore forbidden to others. For example, performing and creating art was traditionally a High Class activity. Cooking was for the Low Class. Tutoring and teaching was for the Middle Class. The idea behind the ban was to prevent students from falling into Class stereotypes, and for the most part, it worked. According to Blaine (and most students would agree), however, it made things incredibly boring.

This room, though...it seemed as if someone had collected all of the forbidden objects in the school and stashed them in one place. Broken ovens, washing machines, and art easels lined the walls. Cracked pots of soil with forgotten seed packets were stacked in the corner. Rows and rows of bookshelves containing faded books about banned activities stood dusty and abandoned. But what drew Blaine's eye was the sleek, well-maintained piano in the center of the room. It sat in stark contrast to the rest of the items in the room, and Blaine could only figure that someone had taken care of it through the years.

His fingers itched to touch the beautiful ivory keys, but he couldn't bring himself to do it - he knew it was wrong. His father made and upheld rules and laws. He was raised to never question them. He started to turn away.

But...what could it hurt? Nobody was around, nobody had to know. _Just for a minute,_ he rationalized with himself.

Twenty minutes later, he was immersed in Rachmaninov. His hands felt their way across the keys, his eyes closed and his head dipped forward. Blaine's mind closed off to all thoughts except for the notes he played. He was so consumed that he did not hear the door opening.

"Oh, shit!" Exclaimed the intruder, scaring Blaine and causing him to drop his hands and push himself away from the instrument. His pulse raced. He had been caught. He did not want to have to leave this school too.

Blaine risked a look toward the door.

His heart slowed down a bit, then sped up for an entirely different reason. It was Kurt, the boy from chemistry. As Blaine watched, Kurt relaxed, folding his arms and legs to lean against the door frame. The hint of a smile played at his lips.

Even in his sleep attire, Kurt looked amazing. He was known throughout the school for making adjustments to his uniform - a cuff of a pant leg here, a flower pinned there - and Blaine saw that even his pajamas had not escaped his makeshift styling. Modifying their uniforms was not exactly forbidden, but it was not strictly allowed either. Designing was a High Class activity, and sewing was a Low Class activity, so it fell somewhat in the gray area. Kurt took full advantage of that. Nobody had scolded him for it yet, anyway. The staff at Dalton knew they had to carefully choose their battles with Kurt.

Seeing him there in the doorway, Blaine felt equal parts soothed and terrified and warm. Kurt had a pretty powerful presence. Blaine, as usual, was astounded by how striking he was in looks and personality.

"Couldn't sleep?" Kurt asked softly, still smirking.

Blaine took this opportunity to defend himself.

"No, I couldn't. I started walking around and I accidentally found this room. I didn't mean to come in and I definitely didn't mean to start playing. It's just…"

His fate lay in Kurt's hands. If the other boy decided to turn him in for breaking the rules, he was done for. Blaine's eyes met his, imploring him to understand.

Kurt's smile only grew. "I know. This is my hideout too."

A little of the tension in Blaine's shoulders eased. But just a little.

Kurt had not moved his eyes from Blaine's face. He was studying him, trying to figure him out. Blaine recognized the question as it formed on Kurt's lips. The question he had been asked ten times already today. The one he was not allowed to answer. But he was breaking all of the rules now. He had just hoped that Kurt was different, that he did not care whose son Blaine was, and that he would not have to answer this question for him. Apparently that was not true.

"Are you—“

"Yes. I am," Blaine cut him off coldly. Kurt cocked his head slightly in response, and looked at Blaine questioningly. A horribly long stretch of silence passed between them.

"So...you are? Leaving, then?" Kurt clarified with a mocking tone to his voice.

Blaine tried desperately to curb the blush that crept up his neck and onto his face. If he could have dug a hole and shoved his head in it, he would have.

"S-sorry, yeah. I'm going."

Kurt did not move out of the doorway as Blaine approached, and Blaine was forced to slide by him, trying both not to touch him and also to touch every part of him that he could reach.

As he walked past, Kurt spoke.

"I'm not going to tell anyone, you know."

Blaine stopped just inches from Kurt, the heat of Kurt's body radiating into his own. He held his breath, and he could have sworn that he could feel their heartbeats pulsing in the air around them.

If Blaine was brave, he would have reached out to put his fingers on Kurt's hips. He would have pulled Kurt in until his body arched against him. He would have smiled at the surprised little gasp that Kurt let out. Blaine would have raised his eyes to finally, finally see Kurt's face up close. His gaze would have lingered on Kurt's perfectly shaped lips, and he would have quietly whimpered as Kurt's tongue darted out to wet them. He would have carefully gauged Kurt's reaction to his sudden show of wanting, and when he saw that Kurt's eyes mirrored the yearning in his own, Blaine would have lifted his lips to press softly against Kurt's. Kurt would have let out a soft groan at the contact, deepening their kiss, causing Blaine's hands to twist into his shirt and grasp at his lower back. Blaine would have felt the heat spreading from his core because he was close to Kurt, touching Kurt, kissing Kurt, and he would have pulled his hips back slightly because he did not want Kurt to feel his obvious desire. But Kurt would have chased him, pressing his own desire into Blaine, silently saying _It's okay, I want you too._ They would have kissed and kissed until their lips were swollen and Kurt would have rolled his hips until Blaine was close, so close, and then Kurt would have pulled away. He would have planted one more solitary kiss on Blaine's lips, smiled, and said "Good night," because that was exactly the kind of frustratingly mysterious man that Kurt was.

But Blaine was not brave.

\---

Kurt was exhausted. He had hardly slept last night, even after returning to bed. Despite his best efforts, he could not get Blaine out of his head. Why, though? Kurt knew who Blaine's family was, and he knew that he hated them and what they stood for. But Blaine was so gorgeous and so intent on him. The boy looked at Kurt like he was seeing the sun for the first time, and it was damn near irresistible. Kurt had his rules, though, so he shoved all thoughts of Blaine into a little box and kept them there the best he could.

Now he was fighting to stay awake in Class Studies.

Kurt despised having to take Class Studies. It was mandatory for all academies to offer the course because it taught the history and current events of the Class system. But it was really intended to teach the students where their place was in society and remind them about the differences between Dalton and the real world.

Of course, Kurt took this class as an opportunity to do what he always did, and made it his own. He did not want his classmates to sit by idly and blindly accept what was being told to them. He wanted them to _think_. So that is what he made them do. Or at least, he tried.

Today, while Mr. Brower lectured them about the law that outlined the interactions between the classes, Kurt spoke up. It was one of the many laws he was most infuriated by. Interclass communication was only allowed in the context of business exchanges. And it pissed Kurt off.

"What good does that law do? Why does it benefit us?" Kurt asked in the middle of the lecture.

"Because that's the way it has always been," Mr. Brower explained.

"That answer is bullshit!" Kurt retorted.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Blaine's head whip up in shock. Kurt supposed that it was typically frowned upon to speak out against instructors like that, but Mr. Brower always made sure that the students had a safe place to speak their mind. Plus, Kurt suspected that Mr. Brower was on the side of the Resistance, but since the academy paid him not to reveal his views in class, he relied on Kurt to push the message for him.

Mr. Brower sighed, and conceded to Kurt. "Care to elaborate, Kurt?"

Half of the class groaned.

"I sure do." He stood. "In what world is 'that's the way it has always been' a good reason for anything?! What good has ever come of something staying the same just because it's easier not to do anything about it?"

"Can you give us an example of a time when good came from someone speaking up for change?" Mr. Brower prompted.

"Of course. Gay rights. Twenty years ago, I could have been discriminated against solely based upon my sexual orientation. But a group of people realized how wrong that was and spoke up about it. They opened people's eyes, and pushed for change, and change happened. Now, nobody cares who likes boys and who likes girls. And the world is a better place for that."

"But that doesn't relate at all to Class differences. It's like comparing apples to oranges," one of Kurt's classmates chimed in.

Kurt maintained a calm facade, but inside, his blood boiled.

"How is it not exactly the same?!"

"Because being gay isn't something that makes you better or worse than anyone else."

"And your Class does? See? This is exactly the problem. You people can't see that you are wrong on a fundamental level. I feel bad for you. I wonder what it's like to be on the wrong side of history." He grabbed his book and stormed out.

As he passed Blaine, Blaine's hand twitched, as if he was thinking of reaching out to stop Kurt. Kurt wanted so badly to grab that hand and pull him along.

Oh well. Blaine would learn soon enough that Kurt stormed out of Class Studies more often than not. Only In Kurt's wildest dreams, maybe someday Blaine would be storming out with him.

\---

So Kurt was part of the Resistance. That made things a little more complicated. As if there were even _things_ to make complicated. The way he had been acting, Kurt probably thought he was a spineless buffoon. Especially since Kurt was so... _everything_.

The more Blaine thought about it, he figured Kurt must be High Class because of the way he carried himself, the way he presented his thoughts with so much conviction, the way he never seemed to care what anyone else thought. Maybe Kurt was even Elite, a member of a lawmaker's family. Blaine knew most of the Elite families in Ohio, but students were not placed in academies geographically, because it reduced the risk of students recognizing each other. Resistance Elite were rare, but they existed. And Kurt was certainly one of a kind.

Blaine expected to eat alone again at lunch today, since he had not seen Renna (or Kurt, for that matter...not that Kurt would want to sit with him) in the cafeteria at any meal so far. He was absolutely dreading it. He promised himself that by tomorrow, he would find a better place to eat.

Just as the thought crossed his mind, Blaine saw Renna and Kurt walking together toward the doors of the cafeteria. Blaine did not pay much attention as he grabbed a salad and milkshake, then ran to catch up with the two of them. When he saw them slip around the corner and into a small study room nearby, he followed them eagerly.

"Mind if I join you?" Blaine spoke up from the doorway.

"Blaine!" Renna squealed, jumping to her feet to hug him fiercely. "I heard the rumors, but I hadn't seen you yet!"

"Just follow the stares," he joked, hugging her back. "I can't stand the cafeteria."

"That makes three of us," Kurt spoke up.

"Sit with us," Renna offered.

Blaine sat down happily.

"I heard you had an interesting Class Studies class," Renna prodded.

"You heard about that already?" Blaine asked.

"Word travels fast around here. Especially when it's something as scandalous as Kurt swearing at a teacher." She winked.

"Well, I won't apologize for being right," Kurt said indignantly.

"Nobody is asking you to," Renna reminded him in a soothing voice.

Kurt relaxed visibly at the show of support, but settled down into himself.

Blaine watched Kurt since he apparently could not force his stupid eyes to do anything else. Kurt sat quietly, intently focused on the food he was picking apart as Renna tried to make conversation.

"So Blaine, how are you liking Dalton so far?"

"It's okay. It's no different than Eastern was. There's only one thing here that's...unique." His eyes bored into Kurt, and Kurt's head snapped up. Blaine could practically see him wondering if Blaine could have been talking about him. Blaine tore his eyes away to focus on Renna again. "It's quite refreshing."

Renna was not one to ask questions, but she did not seem to need to. She smiled knowingly between the two boys.

"That's nice. How is your roommate? Calen, is it?"

"Oh yeah. He doesn't seem to like me very much…"

As he and Renna talked, Kurt remained silent. Blaine wished that Kurt would join the conversation so that he could learn something about him, anything. It was clear that Kurt was going to make him work for it.

The warning bell rang, and Kurt stood instantly. He looked back over his shoulder to Blaine.

"Chemistry, right? You coming?"

Blaine scrambled to his feet, overjoyed that Kurt had remembered that part of his schedule. Maybe Kurt wasn't as disconnected as he tried to seem.

Blaine caught up in the hallway, having to take a step and a half for every one of Kurt's long-legged strides.

Neither one spoke until they reached the lab. Kurt was such an enigma. He was hard to get a read on, but he seemed upset by something, and Blaine, despite having known him for less than two days, worried about him.

"Kurt," the sound of Blaine's voice caused Kurt to jump slightly. "Is everything okay?"

"No," Kurt said without changing his expression.

Blaine blanched at his honesty. He could not help but to feel that he had something to do with the air of annoyance Kurt was putting off. "I know I haven't exactly been...umm...eloquent...but I just...don't write me off yet, okay?"

Kurt turned toward him fully and finally gave Blaine the deep look he had been craving from the other boy all day. Kurt's eyes almost let on an emotion. If it was anything, Blaine thought it was conflict.

"Look. I can't - I don't want to make friends here. It's nothing personal. The only reason I let Renna around is because she gives me no other choice. Please don't be offended. It's just the way things have to be." He turned around and entered the lab.

Blaine felt the harsh sadness in Kurt's words. But Kurt had, unknowingly, told Blaine exactly what he needed to know.

He was not going to give Kurt a choice about being his friend either.


	3. Chapter 3

**Ordinance 467**

Upon completion of academy education, students may choose to return to their family and maintain their Class status, or to participate in a Class aptitude test and stand before the Council, who will determine if the applicant is an appropriate fit to change Classes. If one selects to apply for a change in Class status, he or she agrees to excommunicate him or herself from all family members.

**Dalton Bylaw II**

Students will not speak of his own or any other student's Class status. Doing so will result in expulsion.

\---

_"The only reason I let Renna around is because she gives me no other choice."_

Kurt wanted to take the words back as they were coming out of his mouth. He did not know why he was saying them; it basically gave Blaine a free pass to start hanging around him. The only thing Kurt could figure was that he subconsciously wanted Blaine around. On the surface, though, his brain screamed at him to shut up, that he could not let Blaine in like he did Renna, even if he hardly let her in at all.

Maybe Blaine wouldn’t find any meaning in it. Or maybe he would. Maybe Kurt secretly hoped for the second option.

It was not long before Kurt realized that he would get what he hoped for.

When Kurt sat down in Class Studies or chemistry, Blaine was already in the seat next to him. When Kurt did homework in his favorite study room (favorite because it was tucked away in a corner of the building that people rarely ventured into), Blaine studied there too. If he snuck away at mealtimes, Blaine was right there with him.

Blaine did not push Kurt to acknowledge him, did not talk, simply sat there. Kurt was surprised to find that Blaine's presence was weirdly satisfying. He was so used to being alone, and he had always seen the company of others in this school as daunting. But somehow, Blaine and all his silence, his sideways looks, his shy smiles when he thought Kurt wasn't looking, brought Kurt peace. Which was ridiculous, because Kurt was repulsed by the thought of what Blaine's family stood for. So why, oh why was he starting to feel warmth toward Blaine? Not _that_ kind of warmth. Although, Blaine definitely did give him _those_ types of feelings, but _look at him_. And besides, Kurt was a teenage boy. It was a hormone-driven world and he was only living in it. No, as much as he tried to fight it, he was starting to like having Blaine around.

That night, when nightmares plagued his sleep, Kurt ventured down to his hideout. He was only slightly surprised when he saw light peeking out from underneath the door. He pushed the door open to find Blaine seated at the piano, hands poised over the keys, looking expectantly at him. When Blaine processed that it was Kurt standing there, he broke into the shy smile that Kurt was learning to appreciate. Blaine started to stand, assuming based on their first encounter in this room that Kurt liked to be alone when he was down here. Kurt surprised him by shaking his head, walking over to the couch in the corner, pulling out a leather-bound sketchbook from under the cushion, and settling in to start working on some new designs. Blaine, realizing he would not be dismissed this time, sat slowly back down and began playing quietly while Kurt drew, throwing him tentative looks every so often to make sure his presence was still welcome. They sat in harmonious silence, both lost in their art, very much enjoying being alone together.

Kurt and Blaine spent many nights this way, and after a while, Blaine broke his silence.

At first, Blaine started sharing trivial facts about himself.

"My favorite author is Jane Austen."

"When I was a child, I broke my arm 3 times."

"I love animals."

"If I could go anywhere in the world, I would go to Spain."

Kurt would never admit it aloud, but he liked hearing Blaine talk about himself. He had a sharp, clear voice that was to die for, and he always spoke happily and optimistically. Kurt never reciprocated, but Blaine did not seem to mind.

One evening, Kurt, Blaine, and Renna worked on their homework in a study room, papers and books sprawled out across tables and the floor. The trio had fallen into a comfortable distant companionship.

It was getting late. Blaine yawned. "I think I'll go to bed. I'll see you both tomorrow."

As soon as Blaine closed the door behind him, Renna jumped at her opportunity.

"Blaine has been hanging around you quite a lot," she observed.

"Yeah. He has." Kurt wasn't going to let on any information that easily.

"Have you changed your mind about…?"

"No," Kurt said firmly. "I still think it's wrong to make friends here. Blaine is just so goddamn...unexpected."

Renna smiled. "That he is. I'm really glad you're letting him in, Kurt. It's not wrong for you to want to be happy."

"No, it's not like that. It _is_ wrong. It's wrong because of who he is and what he stands for. It's everything I've fought against and tried to shut out for my entire life."

"What his family stands for," Renna corrected.

"What?"

"What you hate is what his family stands for. Blaine isn't his father. You sit here day in and day out preaching equality, yet you're writing him off based on what you think he could be because of his family."

She had a point. Why hadn’t he seen it before?

"Shit. You're right."

Renna looked conflicted. She opened her mouth and shut it again before finally speaking.

"I've known Blaine for a while. He struggles just like the rest of us, but he's got a really good heart." Renna never gave anything away about her home life, so Kurt knew this was important to her. He had always assumed that she was Low Class just from her quiet demeanor and tendency to serve rather than to be served, but if she knew Blaine, now he wasn’t so sure. Then again, it could mean anything. Her family could know his socially or because they were housekeepers for the Andersons. Kurt tried to push it out of his mind, telling himself that her Class didn’t matter anyway. She continued. "I know how you feel about making connections here at Dalton, but I can see that there's something between the two of you. We only have a few months left here. Maybe you could make an exception. I think the two of you could be really good for each other."

Kurt sighed. "That's exactly it. We only have a few months left. I've made it almost my whole school career without breaking my rule. I've successfully protected myself from the devastation that everyone else will feel when graduation rolls around. Most people here only get to keep an average of 20% of their friends after school ends, did you know that?"

"You may have mentioned it once or twice,” she grimaced. Kurt knew he shouldn’t remind her, that Renna was sensitive and that she too would face never talking to many of her friends again in just a few short months.

"I'm sorry, Renna." She gave him a smile letting him know she wasn’t offended. "I've got to get to bed too." Kurt wished her a goodnight and tried to go to sleep that night with her words playing over in his head.

\---

Blaine awoke the next morning to a disaster zone. His clothes were thrown about the room unfolded or taken off their hangers and crumpled up on the floor.

His roommate Calen was nowhere to be found.

Blaine threw a pillow over his face, putting off dealing with the mess for a few more minutes.

He thought back to his first day at Dalton and tried to remember what he had done or said to offend Calen. He couldn't find a single flaw in his behavior. Calen must have hated him simply for who he was. Most people, upon finding out that Blaine was the Chancellor's heir, wanted to schmooze him, to hopefully make connections and win his favor. But a few people, namely those whose family members had been personally affected by a punishment the Chancellor had ordered, wanted to make Blaine's life miserable. Calen appeared to be one of those people.

Blaine arose and dug through the pile of clothes. All of his uniform shirts had at least one tear in them, his slacks had been cut short, and his ties had been shredded.

He grunted in frustration. There was no time to try to fix anything (as if he would even know how!), so he did the only thing he could think of: he ran to Kurt's room.

Fingers crossed, Blaine hoped that Kurt had yet to leave for breakfast. He knocked rapidly on the door he had seen Kurt disappear behind on numerous occasions.

"Kurt! It's me, Blaine!" He called.

Kurt appeared at the door, narrowing his eyes at the surprise. Blaine couldn't blame him - it was 7:30 in the morning. 

"This is going to sound weird, but my roommate destroyed all of my clothes. I need to borrow a uniform from you. I know it won't fit right, and I know it's only a temporary solution, but it's the only thing I can think of for right now. I don't really know what to do to fix-"

"Stop rambling, I'll get you a uniform," Kurt's eyes gleamed with humor, but held a hint of worry that made Blaine melt.

Blaine hovered in the doorway, not sure whether or not he was allowed in. He looked around and noticed the glaring absence of another person's things.

"You don't have a roommate?" Blaine inquired.

Kurt looked back at him, now digging in his closet. "Haven't had one for two years. Apparently I'm not easy to live with. Aha!" Kurt pulled out what he had been looking for. He brought the uniform over to Blaine. Their hands brushed as Blaine reached to grab the clothes from Kurt, and he froze at the buzz he felt from the contact. Kurt's fingers reached out and ran down the back of his hand before pulling away. A wave of some unidentifiable but intense emotion washed over Blaine. He wondered if Kurt could feel it too.

When Kurt spoke, there was a slight edge to his voice, and Blaine knew that he had indeed felt it. "Sorry, I shouldn't have left you standing here. Nobody comes in my room. It's kind of like my sanctuary here. Plus, nobody has ever wanted to come in." Kurt turned away quickly, realizing he had said too much, made himself too vulnerable. He had his hands tucked into his pockets, but if they were anything like Blaine's, they were still burning from the contact.

Blaine spoke quickly. "It's okay. I can understand wanting a space to yourself. I _did_ kind of invade your hideout. I'm sorry about that. You can tell me to get out anytime and I'll-"

"Stop rambling," Kurt repeated, having recovered. He grinned. "I'll see you in class later." He shut the door, leaving Blaine flustered on the other side.

It seemed like Blaine was flustered around Kurt more often than not. He was normally cool and collected, but something about the other boy just set his nerves on fire. There was Kurt's shocking beauty that nearly bowled Blaine over every time he saw him, yes, and the way that Blaine wanted to touch Kurt and kiss him and _more, so much more,_ but it was really Kurt's spirit that called to him. His brain and his confidence and his uniqueness and the sense that he could accomplish anything he attempted.

It was exhausting being this drawn to someone, but it was exciting.

\---

Kurt was fucking fired up. He was on his feet in Class Studies yet again, shouting at his classmates.

Mr. Brower had been discussing the process of changing Classes, and had opened up the floor to questions.

The law stated that after graduation from an academy, a student can choose to cut all ties with their family, never to return or speak to them again, for the chance to move up or down to a Class of their choosing. The process involved a rigorous aptitude and personality test, and standing before the Council, who would ultimately make the decision of eligibility. It was nearly impossible to be granted an upward change in Class status, leaving the applicant in the same Class as before, but unable to return to his or her family.

"The most common reason people apply for a change is love," Mr. Brower explained. "Two academy students fall in love in school, find out they are in different Classes, and would do anything to stay together."

"It's cruel," Kurt muttered.

"More commonly, the lower Class individual applies for a higher Class, instead of the other way around."

Kurt glanced at Blaine, who was shifting uncomfortably in his seat. He had not known Blaine long, but since he had met him, Blaine had always been cheerful. It was one of the most comforting things about him. Today was a different story, though. It made Kurt feel uncomfortable, too, seeing Blaine so down, and it only added to his frustration.

"Yeah, because who would want to go down in Class?" A girl in the corner scoffed. "Why is it even allowed, anyway? People should just be happy where they are."

That was when Kurt rose to his feet. "Hey Mallory, your privilege is showing! God, do you even try to understand what other people must feel? The Class system sets us into an almost unbreakable cycle, but you don't care, because you're happy with what you were born into. That's the exact problem with our society. Nothing will ever get better because the entire Council is made up of twelve High Class old men who can't see past the tips of their noses. Have any of you ever considered how the laws affect someone else? Have you ever been told you couldn't contact a loved one ever again because they wanted to change Class? Have you ever thought about how your privilege takes away from others? No. You haven't. Because most of you are self-absorbed pieces of—"

"Okay, Kurt. It might be a good idea for you to go cool off in the hallway."

Kurt was already packing up his things.

"He's not wrong," a quiet voice came from beside him. Kurt's head snapped up to look at Blaine, who was looking down at his hands. "I think we could all benefit from broadening our minds a little bit, trying to understand someone else's point of view. Just because this law benefits you or doesn't affect you doesn't mean you should look past the detrimental effect it has on others." Blaine stopped abruptly, realizing he had slipped into his commanding public speaking voice that had been drilled into him since he was a young child. Blaine knew he had the power to influence people just because of who he was, but he hated to use that power. He just could not help but to speak out when he was feeling so personally affected.

Kurt looked around the room in amazement. Every student was looking at Blaine, and most were nodding in agreement. Something clicked for him, and his body calmed down as he sank back into his chair. What if Blaine was the answer to everything he'd been searching for? And in more ways than one?

\---

Kurt, Renna, and Blaine ate lunch without saying much.

Blaine did not have bad days often, so when he did, they hit him hard. He was so drawn into himself today that he hardly noticed that Renna was speaking to him.

"Why aren't you wearing your own uniform? That one is practically bursting at the seams!" She said.

Blaine clenched his fists together, remembering the mess his clothes had been this morning. "Roommate…" was all he could say. Why was he feeling so emotional today?

Renna laid a hand over his forearm, sensing that he was worked up over something. She was so perceptive and empathetic. She was _exactly_ what he had been talking about in Class Studies. If everyone could be as open and understanding as Renna, the world would be a better place.

Kurt stood and tossed the remains of his lunch in the trash.

"I'm going for a walk," he announced. Blaine expected Kurt to turn and leave, but his eyes remained focused on Blaine. _Come along_ , they were saying.

"Oh!" Blaine jumped up and walked to Kurt's side. He waved a goodbye to Renna and followed Kurt outside.

The two boys walked across the grounds in silence, letting the fresh air clear their minds and help them release the tension they had built up in that last class.

They walked and walked, each lost in his own thoughts, knowing they would be late for chemistry, but not caring.

When Blaine opened his mouth, Kurt expected to hear a new tidbit of trivia from Blaine's life, just like he had been sharing all week. What he heard instead was so much more than that.

"I used to have a brother," Blaine began, shaky already. Kurt stopped in his tracks. Blaine sat down on a nearby bench and Kurt followed suit. They were sitting close, close enough to touch if one of them shifted a couple inches.

"I still have a brother, I guess, but we haven't spoken in years." Blaine tried to even out his voice. He never talked about Cooper. It was a taboo subject in his family. "Cooper graduated 8 years ago, and his graduation day was the last time I saw him. He decided he wanted to descend Classes. Cooper was first in line to be our father's successor, but he didn't want that life. He was a simple guy, never one for politics, and the idea of having so much power...it just wasn't him. He would have just told my father that he didn't want it, but the trouble is that there was no choice. If my father were to die or step down, Cooper would become Chancellor. It was the law. So he did the only thing he could. And I haven't seen my big brother since. I like to imagine that he's happy out there...a small business owner, married with one or two kids...We were never close, with him being so much older than me, but now I'll never get that chance." Blaine quickly wiped tears from his eyes, embarrassed that he was crying in front of Kurt. "I can't even talk about him because my parents are so hurt and embarrassed by what happened. Plus, it's a sign of weakness to show emotion in our household anyway." There was bitterness in his voice.

Kurt understood what Blaine was saying. He had just been speaking out about how shitty the law was, after all. But on another level, he heard everything Blaine was unable to say. Now that Cooper was gone, it all fell on him. He could not disappoint his parents the way his brother had. His life's path was chosen for him.

In an act that surprised both of the boys, Kurt wrapped an arm around Blaine's shoulder to comfort him. His silent consolation telling Blaine,  _Let it out_. Blaine rested his head against Kurt's neck and cried harder than he had done since he could remember. Kurt did not need to say anything more, just simply tightened his hold on Blaine to anchor him to the present.

Blaine had never been more thankful for anyone before.

\---

Well shit. When Kurt offered to walk with Blaine, he had not anticipated that Blaine would spill such a personal story, or that they would forge such a connection sitting there and understanding each other, seeing each other. He was in way too fucking deep for his liking. He knew he would find Blaine down in their hideout, and he knew he should not perpetuate this relationship, but he went anyway.

 _Their hideout_. He was freaking himself out with the level of comfort he felt with Blaine already.

Kurt opened the door to see Blaine with his back to the entrance, holding a Dalton uniform shirt in one hand and a needle and thread in the other.

Blaine grunted in frustration, throwing the needle down onto the desk at which he was working.

Kurt walked over to the desk, picked up the needle, placed his hand over Blaine's, and said, "let me help you." The tingle he had felt twice now when touching Blaine coursed through his hand and up his arm. It was dangerous to be this close, but Kurt could not get enough of it.

Something had shifted between Kurt and Blaine, and neither boy could put his finger on exactly what it was, but neither boy was shying away from it either.

Blaine watched Kurt as he worked, admiring Kurt's elegant fingers moving quickly, his long lashes brushing the tops of his cheekbones when he looked down, his perfect posture even when leaning over his work like he was. Despite the horrible day he had endured, Kurt's presence made him feel better. Joining Kurt at meals, in the halls, in their midnight hideout had all started as a way for Blaine to get into Kurt's heart, to build a friendship with the boy who did not want any friends. But Kurt surprised Blaine time after time. Blaine had not expected to _feel_ for Kurt.

"I'm sorry that Calen would do something like this to you," Kurt told Blaine, surprising him yet again with his softness.

"Why does he hate me just because of who I am?" Blaine asked, finally voicing the question he'd been asking himself all day.

Kurt turned his stunning gaze on Blaine. "He hates who he _thinks_ you are. If he truly knew you, he couldn't hate you."

Oh dear god, how did Kurt have the power to take Blaine's breath away with a few simple words like that?

"Here. I'm done." Kurt handed over Blaine's new uniform, breaking them from the spell of the moment. Kurt had patched up the torn parts of the shirt, cuffed the pants to make them ankle pants, and had transformed the tie into a bow tie.

Blaine exhaled heavily. This look was so him. "You're amazing, Kurt." He had not meant to say it. He was trying to find a way to take the words back when Kurt beamed at him.

"I know. Now go get your beauty sleep, killer. You've got a new look to debut tomorrow."


	4. Chapter 4

**Resistance Movement Growing**

_**Classless Magazine** _

According to a recent poll, 31% of the general population identifies as part of the Resistance, and a shocking 72% of the population shares at least one of the Resistance movement's major beliefs. Resistance members are distributed throughout the Classes, with the majority focused in the Middle Class. The 16-29 age demographic has the strongest showing, whereas ages 65 and over represent fewer than 3% of the Resistance.

Peaceful demonstrations are becoming a more frequent occurrence, calling for an end to the Class system. There are currently no laws forbidding citizens from expressing Resistance beliefs, however, there has been speculation that with the increase in demonstrations, regulations may soon be voted on in the Council.

Will the movement continue to grow? Will the Resistance be forced into becoming a secret underground operation? Only time will tell.

\---

**You are cordially invited to**

**Dalton Academy's March Dinner Dance**

**Saturday the nineteenth of March**

**Seven o'clock in the evening**

**A four-course meal will be served in the dining hall, followed by conversation and dancing in the ballroom**

**Semi-formal attire required**

**\---**

_If you had asked Kurt what he thought he would be doing Saturday night, he would not have predicted that he would be sneaking away from the Dalton dinner dance to a dark corner of an abandoned classroom and having his clothes taken off by the boy he was crushing on. He had not even thought he would ever go to a Dalton dinner dance, but Blaine had asked him, and how could he say no?_

_So here he was._

_A few minutes ago, Kurt had been relishing the perfect night, swaying to the party's soft music wrapped up in Blaine's arms, but then Blaine had leaned in closer to his ear and whispered "_ I have to have you _," and he was a goner._

_Now, miraculously, Kurt was pushed up against a chalkboard, Blaine's body pinning him in place, every inch of his skin burning for the boy in front of him. The feeling of Blaine's hands in his hair, on his back, tugging at his hips, was everything he craved, everything he needed._

_Kurt was not nervous like he always thought he would be, not embarrassed about someone else seeing and touching his body. He did not even have the capacity to consider his fears and insecurities at the moment because he was so fully absorbed in Blaine._

_Blaine's fingers were at his neck, undoing the buttons of his shirt one by one, revealing the skin of Kurt's chest little by little, his lips following right behind to plant a trail of kisses down across Kurt's torso. Without warning, Blaine's tongue dipped into his belly button, causing Kurt's back to arch and inadvertently press his groin into Blaine._

_"I want to taste you, sexy," Blaine whispered, eyes dark and crazed while his hands located the button on Kurt's pants._

_Before Kurt knew it, his pants and briefs were around his knees and Blaine and his glorious mouth were on him._

Kurt awoke with a start, cock throbbing with need.

" _Fuck_ ," he grumbled as he palmed himself over his pajamas to try to get some relief. Now he was having sex dreams about this guy?

Kurt rationalized with himself. Dreams were the only way he could ever have Blaine, so he supposed he could allow himself to dream big.

His fantasy picked up where the dream had left off - with Blaine and his very desirable, very skilled mouth.

\---

The weather was astoundingly beautiful for mid-March. The sun was out, there was a light breeze, and the air smelled like spring. Kurt nestled in against the trunk of his favorite tree on the edge of the grounds. It was situated so that he could see everything, but nobody would see him unless they were looking, which they weren't. He had no less than three blankets spread out beneath him as a safeguard against dirt, grass, and bugs - a few of Kurt's least favorite things - and he was so content in this moment. But as much as he loved his quiet alone time, he almost wished for Blaine to be there with him. They had not had any more heart-to-hearts over the past few days, and Kurt still had not revealed much of anything about himself to Blaine, but light conversation between the two of them was now a regular occurrence. Kurt was growing quite used to his new companion, and it was equal parts alarming and exhilarating. Despite Renna convincing him that Blaine might not have the same viewpoint his parents did, Kurt still was not sure where Blaine stood on the big issues. If their strange little friendship was going to continue, Kurt needed to sort that out sooner rather than later. He could not bear spending any more time with Blaine if Blaine was opposed to equality.

As if he could hear Kurt thinking his name, Blaine came strolling down the hill, followed by a gaggle of younger students. His brow was furrowed, eyes darting around nervously, looking for something. When he saw Kurt, his face lit up, and he made a beeline for the tree. The group following him reluctantly parted ways when they saw his destination.

Blaine plopped down on one of the blankets near Kurt, sitting cross-legged. Kurt cursed his dream for the visions that rushed into his mind. Blaine waved a piece of parchment-colored paper in front of him.

"What is this?" He asked.

Kurt dropped the book he was perusing to look.

"That's a piece of paper, Blaine. Sometimes humans use paper to write or draw pictures or words-"

"Wow, I did not realize I was sitting next to the queen of sass…" Blaine interjected, laughing. "This invitation was in my mailbox and girls and boys have been following me around all day trying to ask me if I would attend the March dinner dance with them. So tell me...what exactly is a Dalton dinner dance?"

"It's a dinner and a dance," Kurt deadpanned. He had not been expecting this easy banter between the two of them, but he was not unhappy with it.

"Yeah, I'm gonna need a little more than that," Blaine grinned, clearly also pleased with their interaction.

Kurt's face contorted into a grimace. "It's a monthly event that the administration puts on where students can come together and have a night of fun. People get dressed up, they serve a fancy meal, and there's a live band that plays while people dance." The bitterness in Kurt's voice was unmistakable.

"And we take dates?" Blaine bit his lip. Damn that dream from last night...every little thing Blaine did was making Kurt squirm.

"It's-it's not mandatory, but most people do."

Blaine sat up straighter with a brightened expression. "It sounds like fun!"

"Fun...yeah-" A boy Kurt vaguely recognized from their year approached them. He was handsome. Tall and muscular, but very blonde. Not Kurt's type at all. He was not looking for Kurt, though.

"Hi Blaine," the boy spoke. "Jackson from trigonometry, remember? I was wondering if you would want to go to the dinner dance with me." Jackson seemed extremely confident and not at all afraid of rejection.

Blaine smiled widely at him. Was Blaine flirting?! "Ah jeez, Jackson. Of course I remember you! I'm actually going with someone else, though."

Kurt's heart dropped. Of course he was. Kurt felt strangely disappointed when he heard this. But Blaine was Blaine. There was no way he wouldn't have a date to the party. Kurt should have known. And anyway, he could not be upset at Blaine for making other friends, crushing on other boys. Kurt had set his boundaries, and he had to live with them. The fact that he was even remotely upset about something like this just proved that Kurt had not been stringent enough in sticking to his own rules. He was so irritated with himself that when he looked up, he realized he had missed Jackson's departure entirely.

"He's the fourth person to ask me today," Blaine picked at the grass, a weird expression on his face.

"It must be exhausting to be you," Kurt joked, jabbing at Blaine's side, which made Blaine perk up and laugh.

"So…you already have a date for the party?" Kurt tried to sound as uninterested as possible.

Blaine looked up apologetically. "No." He shook his head. "Did it sound convincing, though? I'm using it as an excuse to let people down gently."

Kurt hummed in approval, secretly so relieved. He stretched his long legs out in front of himself. It did not escape his notice that Blaine watched appreciatively. It made Kurt feel good to know that somebody liked the way he looked. He wondered if Blaine had been having dreams about him, too. When Blaine saw that he had been caught watching, he blushed and started babbling.

"You have - um - grass...uh, so...Who are you going with?" Blaine asked.

Kurt gave Blaine a hard look, collecting his knees to his chest again. "I don't go. These parties were created so that students would forget that this academy is just a pretense of equality, and that when we are thrust into the real world, we will never all be allowed to attend such an event together, but I will never forget. It's a mockery of the basic human rights some people are denied, and I will not support it."

Blaine was quiet. Kurt wondered if Blaine thought he was crazy. He knew that sooner or later, he would have to ask _the_ question. The one that had the power to make or break their relationship. His need to know the answer grew more and more pressing with each passing minute they spent together. With every sneaky glance at the other's face or body, every laugh at the other's joke, every story Blaine told, Kurt knew he came closer and closer to the point of no return. If he was going to jump in all the way, he _had_ to know. And he wanted to jump in, he did, just as much as he wanted to turn away and never look back.

"Do you-" he began, backing out almost as soon as he started.

Blaine looked at him expectantly. He rolled over onto his stomach, kicking his feet up into the air and propping up his chin in his hands. How could one person be so damn adorable?

"What is it?" Blaine prompted.

Kurt was saved from having to respond, because Renna came over the hill carrying a picnic basket at that exact moment.

"I could see the two of you out here from my window, and I thought you might like some lunch!"

"Ren, you think of everything!" Blaine popped up to hug her and take the basket from her.

As they spread out the meal on Kurt's pile of blankets and he looked at the smiling faces of the two people he allowed to know him better than he ever intended, Kurt felt something unfamiliar that he never thought he would find at Dalton. It blew him away. He held onto his middle and caught his breath as he realized what it was.

 _Happiness_.

\---

Blaine was having a great weekend. The clothes Kurt had fashioned for him were perfect. He felt more like himself than he had in months. The academies had a tendency to strip away everything that made him _him_. He understood why it was necessary, but it was still a little unsettling.

When he had approached Kurt under the tree earlier this morning, he never expected the easy back-and-forth they had, and definitely had not expected Kurt's response to him bringing up the dinner dance. But then again, nothing about Kurt was expected.

They had had such a nice time working side-by-side outdoors, interrupted only by Renna's picnic. Renna even invited the boys to her and her roommate's regular Saturday evening movie night.

Kurt automatically started to decline the invitation, but Blaine cut in, enthusiastically accepting and convincing Kurt to attend as well.

So now, he was knocking on Renna's door, beyond excited to have friends who treated him normally. And maybe a little excited because he got to spend the evening with Kurt.

"Come in!" Renna called. Blaine entered to see Renna and her roommate, Ashlyn, on one bed, a large bowl of popcorn between them. On the other bed was a sight to behold. Kurt lay stretched out on his hip, hand propping up his head. His soft brown hair fell in waves across his forehead, so different from its usual coif.

Blaine went for one of the desk chairs, stumbling across the rug because he refused to take his eyes off of the gorgeous boy on the bed, but changed course when Kurt sat up and pulled his legs under him, making room for Blaine to sit with him. He was not about to deny himself a chance to sit on a bed with Kurt. Even though he knew it would be totally G-rated, he couldn't help but feel a little anxious at the prospect.

The movie had already been decided on - _The Princess and the Frog._

"I love this movie!" Kurt exclaimed. Blaine grinned. Kurt so rarely let on anything about himself, that it felt like Christmas morning when he did.

As much as Kurt loved the movie, though, he began to drift off. He slid down onto Renna's pillow, and his legs slowly stretched toward where Blaine sat.

Blaine froze when Kurt's feet touched his leg, but then reached out a hand and put it hesitantly on Kurt's ankle. Kurt wriggled down into the mattress and let out what sounded like a happy sigh. The boy who normally looked like he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders seemed so carefree and peaceful in his sleep.

Blaine hoped that someday he could make Kurt feel that way.

\---

Saturday had been filled with so much _togetherness_ that Kurt needed to take Sunday to recoup. He enjoyed Blaine's company, but was so used to being alone that he found the constant companionship a little draining.

Kurt's leg tingled at the memory of waking up in Renna's bed last night with his legs practically on Blaine's lap, and Blaine's warm hand resting on his calf where his sweatpants had ridden up. Blaine, of course, had blushed profusely upon realizing Kurt was awake, and nervous babbled all the way back to his room, where Kurt deposited him before going to his own bed. Kurt had almost stopped him ten times, trying to force the question out of his brain and onto his tongue, but he couldn't. Blaine's babbling was adorable, anyway.

If he was being honest with himself, Kurt knew that the reason he could not bring himself to ask Blaine what his stance was on Class injustice was that he was too afraid that he would not like the answer. Knowing himself, he would let it brew inside of him until it came bursting out at the most inopportune time. He had a really annoying knack for doing that.

There was only one person who knew everything about him and could help him sort out his thoughts. He pulled out his stationery and pen and started writing.

 _Dad_ ,

_Your last letter had me laughing so hard. I could perfectly picture you tripping over the mayor's dog and cussing it out. That has Burt Hummel written all over it. I'm glad she wasn't too angry with you, because we couldn't do what we do without her._

_I need your advice on something. There's someone new I've been hanging around. Please don't go all protective dad on me when I say that he's a boy. You know better than anyone what my stance is on building relationships at Dalton, but I think it might be too late with this one. Dare I say we might already be friends? I know, I know...I promised myself I wouldn't do this, especially for a cute boy (Yes, I said he's cute, get over it), but I'm starting to feel like maybe some promises are made to be broken. What should I do, dad?_

_I should fill you in on what's been happening in Class Studies…_

Kurt wrote and wrote until his hand cramped up. He felt infinitely better after writing to his father, even if he had to censor some of his thoughts. It was true that this whole thing with Blaine had thrown him for a loop, but if there was one thing that Kurt was excellent at, it was taking whatever life threw his way and making the best of it.

\---

"Why does Class matter?" Mr. Brower had opened up the floor to questions about his lecture for the day. Kurt, naturally, capitalized on the opportunity. The question was something Kurt had wondered his whole life, but had been thinking about even more lately. Everyone shrugged and stayed quiet, so Kurt asked again. "Why does Class matter? Why is it that the band around my wrist is the first thing you look for, the number one thing that defines me? Even in here, when we are supposed to be stripped of our Classes, the first thing you wonder about me is which Class I am. It's like it's all that matters. It doesn't matter if I'm male or female, if I'm stupid or smart, if I have blue eyes or brown, if I'm a good person or a bad person...all that matters is my Class. Why is it more important than everything else?"

"It just is," someone spoke up from the front of the classroom.

"Wow, has anyone ever told you how intelligent you are?" Kurt spat. "Use your brains, people! Think for yourselves! Make up your own minds about things!"

"This is stupid," another student commented.

"I think Kurt is right," Mr. Brower supported before Kurt could respond. "It's an important question to ask." He thought for a moment. "I'll tell you what. Forget about the assignment I gave you on Friday. We will move the due date to next week. By Wednesday, I want two pages from each of you on your thoughts on why Class matters. Please try to give it some critical thought. I look forward to reading your responses Wednesday."

Kurt felt smug. This wasn't the first time Mr. Brower had used one of his ideas for an assignment, but it felt like the most important time.

The bell rang to dismiss them, and some of the other students shot Kurt dirty looks, blaming him for their assignment, but Kurt would have taken all of the dirty looks in the world for this chance to change even just one mind.

\---

Blaine wiped the sweat off his face with his T-shirt. He had woken up in the middle of the night once again to a horrible nightmare of being attacked while blindfolded and restrained. The dreams were terrifying and draining, and he hated them. There was one upside to being plagued with these nightmares, though...

He snuck out into the hall and meandered toward his and Kurt's hideout. It was so nice to have an escape. Blaine was always the first one there, and on most nights, Kurt would join him silently, like he had the first time.

But this time, when Blaine neared the door to his favorite room in the school, the light was already on, and a recording of music came from within.

He slowly pushed open the door and saw that he had been wrong on all accounts. Kurt was already there. And he was not listening to a CD, he was the one making the music. Blaine shut the door behind him as quickly as he could without startling Kurt.

As Blaine watched (his mouth hanging open, as it usually did when he saw Kurt do...well...anything), Kurt tapped at the piano tentatively and simply, but in perfect time and key. What blew Blaine away, though, was that Kurt was singing. And good god, was he amazing.

Kurt flicked his eyes up to acknowledge Blaine, then right back down to the keys before him.

Blaine recognized the song - he knew it well. It spoke of the fear to try something new, to commit oneself to another. How fitting. He walked up and sat on the piano bench next to Kurt. Blaine placed his hands on the keys and joined in without missing a beat, turning Kurt's simple tune into a powerful, complex melody. He didn't sing since he couldn't bear to take away from Kurt's perfection, but still, their collaboration felt almost magical. Hip-to-hip, they created beautiful music, becoming one entity for a few minutes. It was magnetic, the force between them, and Blaine did not think he could pull away no matter how hard he tried.

The song finished, and Kurt looked up at him. Blaine knew he had the most awe-struck expression on his face and that he probably looked ridiculous, but he could not help it. Kurt just did that to him. And his suspicion was all but confirmed now. Nobody could sing like that unless they were High Class. It simply did not happen.

"Kurt, you're...that was...unbelievable. How did you learn to sing like that?" He was sure Kurt could see the hearts in his eyes, but he could not find it in him to care.

"My mother," Kurt said softly.

Blaine could only imagine how beautiful and perfect the woman who created and raised Kurt must be. "Tell me about her. She must be amazing."

Kurt swallowed hard. Blaine could see him warring with himself. He was not sure why, but it was obvious that Kurt was struggling, so Blaine put a hand on his knee to reassure him. Kurt looked up in surprise, but after the initial shock of the contact, it seemed to relax him, because Kurt responded. "She's dead."

Despite the blunt way Kurt shot out the words, it was clear the love and grief and reverence Kurt felt for his mother.

Blaine, desperately wanting to console him, put his arms around Kurt's shoulders and pulled him in for a tight hug. Kurt was stiff at first, but Blaine held on until eventually, Kurt melted against him. Blaine's heart thrummed loudly, the heat of Kurt's body against his so deeply pleasing. He felt Kurt's fingertips clutch at his shoulder blades, pulling him closer.

"Thank you," he heard Kurt whisper. Blaine pulled away slightly, but kept his face close to Kurt's. He had dreamed of being this close for over a week, and it was finally coming true. He closed his eyes, and leaned his head against Kurt's shoulder, taking it all in.

Kurt's voice was urgent when he blurted out "Do you think the Resistance movement is important? Do you think it's right?"

Blaine's head whipped up in surprise.

"Oh, I...uh…"

At his loss for words, he saw Kurt visibly deflate, pain streaking across his face. It hurt Blaine's heart to see Kurt in pain.

Kurt backed away a few inches. "It's simple, Blaine. Yes or no? Do you believe in equality?"

"I'm not...I haven't really given it much thought before, I-" Blaine cut off as Kurt threw himself off the bench and to his feet.

"Yeah, that's the problem, isn't it?" Kurt spat, as malicious as Blaine had ever seen him. "You've been so privileged and so comfortable that you've never once in your life had to consider how unjust the system is. I knew that with your background there was a chance that you'd be like that, but god, Blaine, I really hoped you were different. It really is a shame that I was wrong, because we might have had something great."

Kurt shook his head and walked out, leaving Blaine alone and reeling.

 


	5. Chapter 5

 

**The Chancellor and Council**

A Council made up of twelve members who are appointed by the Chancellor will vote on any new legislation. Each Council member will serve until they are no longer able, in which case, his successor will take his place.

A Chancellor's successor is his firstborn child, followed by any subsequent children. In the event that a Chancellor bears no heirs, he will appoint a suitable successor that will be approved by a Council vote.

**Ordinance 515**

A High Class family may take on a lower Class family to serve them in any capacity, so long as the former agrees to provide for the latter.

\---

Blaine Anderson was born to parents who were not particularly interested in being parents at all. Mr. Anderson was the nation's Chancellor (a role he had inherited from his father), and Mrs. Anderson was a proud housewife who loved her children, but busied herself with unrelated activities and events, leaving her children with a nanny.

Their first child, Cooper, was a beautiful and sweet boy, if not a little dim. Mr. and Mrs. Anderson were overjoyed to find out that Cooper was male. He could carry on the Anderson name, and assume the role of Chancellor when Mr. Anderson stepped down. The Anderson family was complete with the birth of their perfect baby boy. They had everything they could ever need or want.

But years later, the birth of Blaine was not an accident. Not by any means. In fact, the Andersons went to the best fertility specialist in the country to conceive him. Because around Cooper's seventh birthday, it started to become clear that he was not the ideal successor for the Chancellor. Cooper was too simple, too distracted, too defiant. He did not show any interest in politics, nor did he show any affinity for public speaking or influencing others. Cooper ran his life on his own terms, and he challenged the rules every step of the way. When his parents said no, Cooper said yes. When they said stop, Cooper went.

When Blaine came into the world, he already held the future of the entire nation within him. Luckily, in his father's eyes, he was up to the challenge. Blaine was everything his parents had been looking for. He was obedient, wanted to please his parents, and he had such a natural charisma that others could not help but to like him and do his bidding (though Blaine never abused that influence).

In his parents' opinions, Blaine was too sensitive and too empathetic, but that was not for lack of them trying to extinguish those tendencies. Part of the Chancellor's job was to determine and enact punishments for crimes that came before him. Mr. Anderson involved Blaine in these punishments as often as he could, in an attempt to toughen him up. Blaine had sat before hundreds of people who were publicly beaten, or forced to eat food off the ground like dogs, or sometimes far crueler things. If he showed any emotion on his face, his father sent him straight away to bed and he would not be fed dinner that night. But as hard as Blaine tried, as much as he hated disappointing his father, he could not stop feeling the pain and embarrassment of the individuals and families his father was punishing. He did not know why. What these people had done was wrong. It was against the law. So they deserved it, didn't they?

As a child, Blaine was exceptionally loving and demonstrated it often. His father pushed Blaine's affections onto his mother, and his mother pushed them off onto the nanny. Cooper boarded at Eastern Academy most of the year, and when he was home for the summers, Blaine had a difficult time connecting with him. Being so much older, Cooper avoided Blaine as much as he could. In retrospect, he was probably trying to distance himself from his little brother so that it would hurt less when he applied for a descent in Class and had to say goodbye forever.

Blaine loved his brother and his parents very much, despite their attention being anywhere but on him. The one person that consistently returned his affection was his nanny, Sylvie. She was the brightest part of Blaine's childhood. She and her daughter, who was almost exactly Blaine's age, lived in a guest house on the Andersons' property, so that she was able to feed, bathe, entertain, and love on Blaine (and Cooper when he was home). Sylvie was a sweet, Middle Class widow who treated Blaine and Cooper like her own children.

It was a sad day when the Andersons decided that Blaine was old enough that he no longer needed a nanny. Blaine would be terribly lonely without Sylvie's company, and the friendship of her daughter, but his parents were right. He did not need a caretaker anymore. So with a heavy heart, he bid goodbye to Sylvie and her daughter, Renna.

\---

The morning after their "confrontation," Kurt did his very best to avoid Blaine. Sure, he had Class Studies and chemistry with him, but he did not have to sit near him or make eye contact. Though he could sense Blaine's gaze on him, as intense as if Blaine's eyes were boring into Kurt's skull, making it near impossible to ignore him. Aside from that, though, Kurt was fairly successful in avoiding contact with Blaine. He was glad for that, because he wanted to make as clean a break as he could. Kurt did not even speak out in Class Studies that day, afraid of what he would say or do to Blaine if he was too worked up.

Blaine had made him break all of his rules and became his friend within the span of two weeks. He was the one person who gave Kurt hope for the future, who made him feel something other than anger. But now...how could they be friends when they were so different? When Blaine admitted that he had never given thought to the cause that Kurt had devoted his life to. He refused to think about what could have been.

If Kurt had looked at Blaine, he would have seen confused eyes, anguish-marred features, and a boy who was lost without the one person he had found who could anchor him down. If Kurt had talked to Blaine, he would have heard how sorry Blaine was, how he wished he could change his upbringing. He would have heard that Blaine was _trying_. Because Blaine sure as hell did not want to go another second without the person who had become a closer friend than he had had for as long as he could remember.

Blaine did not dare to approach Kurt and ask for forgiveness, though. He knew if he wanted Kurt back in his life, he needed to do something bigger than that.

\---

Kurt was in the process of sneaking out of the cafeteria to eat tucked away in his room when a booming voice called his name.

"Kurt. I need to speak to you in my office." The Dean of Dalton was beckoning to him from a few feet away. Some of the younger students nearby squeaked and scurried away like mice, intimidated by the looming figure of Dean Misner. Kurt grunted in frustration, but followed the Dean to his office anyway. It was not like he had a choice in the matter. Back when Kurt first started speaking up against Class inequality, he spent many hours in the Dean's office, being reprimanded for his outbursts. The academy could not actually hand out any punishments, though, because free speech was one right everyone was granted, regardless of Class or any other factor. So Kurt went about his business, speaking his mind whenever he saw fit, and his visits to the Dean dwindled, as it was clear they were futile.

As Kurt walked proudly through the large double doors of the office, holding tightly onto the apple and yogurt he had picked up for lunch, he held his breath, wondering as he always did, if this was the time the school had had enough of him and he would be transferred. Not that he was terribly invested in graduating from Dalton, but there were a few bright points about being here - Mr. Brower allowing him to share his opinions freely, the caring companionship of Renna, the other students leaving him alone, Blaine- _No_! He cut himself off before he could finish that thought.

Kurt sank into a leather armchair and began eating his apple. Dean Misner walked slowly around his enormous desk that took up the majority of the room (poor decorating choice, Kurt thought) and sat in his chair, swiveling around to face Kurt with a tired expression. Kurt had always thought that the Dean's chair, high-backed and a deep mahogany color, was reminiscent of a throne. Maybe that was the feel that Dean Misner was going for, but the Dean was a very large man, and he dwarfed the chair when he sat in it, making it look ridiculous.

"So Kurt," the Dean narrowed his eyes at Kurt when he took a particularly loud crunch of his apple. Kurt lowered the snack to his lap and put his best innocent look on his face. "I hear you've been stirring up quite a ruckus in Mr. Brower's class again."

"I didn't say a single thing!" Kurt huffed. Then he amended, "Today."

"You know there isn't anything I can legally do to stop you from doing it, but some of the things you say are upsetting to the other students."

"God forbid I make them see another viewpoint besides their own…" Kurt muttered.

"You shouldn't antagonize your classmates, Kurt."

"It's not antagonizing, it's called speaking the truth." Kurt was not going to back down from this one. He felt the familiar sensation of his blood pressure rising, and he felt the urge to jump to his feet as he often did when he got riled up in Class Studies. He suppressed it, though, knowing that it would not help anything, and also that Dean Misner would not be intimidated by the boy that was almost a foot smaller than he was.

"I thought we had come to an agreement," the Dean sighed. "You agreed to rein yourself in."

"Yeah, well it gets more and more difficult each day. I will never apologize for fighting for this."

Dean Misner's shoulders slumped, creating the impression that he was much smaller than in actuality. He looked past Kurt through the window. When he satisfactorily confirmed that nobody was watching or listening in, he replied.

"I don't want you to. You know that. But Kurt, you have to be cautious. We've discussed this. If you draw too much attention to yourself, you could ruin everything you and your father have built. It could be the end for my…"

 _Sister_. He could not say the word, but Kurt knew it anyway.

Kurt bit his lower lip. He knew that being so vocal about the Resistance could be dangerous, could put a target on his back. He had always thought of it as a fair trade, that he would risk getting caught (or worse) by the extreme segregationists in order to further the movement. Kurt was nothing if it altruistic. But what the Dean was saying resonated so deeply. Outside of school, he had the ability to help people. Actually help them and make their lives better. He could not do any good if he was captured, and definitely not if he was dead.

Kurt heaved himself to his feet. "Okay. I will try my hardest. Thank you for putting it in perspective for me, Dean Misner."

The Dean straightened out, once again appearing frightening. Kurt hurried out.

"No, thank _you_ ," he said softly after the door was closed and he was left alone in his office, thinking about someone he hadn't allowed himself to think about in too long.

\---

Kurt spent the rest of the day skipping his classes and wallowing in self-pity, hoping that nobody would notice. They usually didn't. He angrily wrote out his paper on why Class matters to turn in the next day, and then treated himself to a nice long bath, trying to push all thoughts of Class and of Blaine out of his mind.

Somewhere, a few floors above him, Blaine was trying to do the exact opposite.

He lay on Renna's bed with his head in her lap. She was combing through his curls and humming to him as her mother had done when Blaine was a child. The two of them had been raised in a sort of uncommon situation, with the Andersons taking Sylvie and Renna into their home. Even though they were from different Classes, the two children had grown up together, and out of the public eye, they had become friends. Though Sylvie had not been employed by the Andersons for quite a few years now, Blaine and Renna had reconnected here at Dalton.

In the confines of Renna's room, Blaine had opened up and explained what had happened with Kurt the night before.

"Now he won't even look at me, Ren. I feel awful. I've lost the one good thing I found here. Besides you, of course," he cocked a smile up at her.

Renna's fingers brushed across his forehead and he closed his eyes in contentment.

"Kurt is special, Blaine. Maybe the most special person I've ever met-"

"You don't need to tell me that," Blaine interrupted.

Renna laughed. "Kurt commits to everything he does one hundred percent. He has the power to change the world. And I believe he will. He thinks he can do it on his own, but I know he needs to surround himself with people who are as strong as he is. People who will help him reach his goal. I think you are one of those people. You have to understand where Kurt was coming from when he got angry with you, though. He has devoted all of his energy to dreaming about and fighting for equal rights, and for you to say you've never given it much thought, as if it is something that doesn't matter to you when it's the most important thing in the world to him…"

Blaine understood. It had taken him some time, but he got it now.

"It's not unimportant."

"Look, I understand that the only people you've ever personally known who are a lower Class than you are me and my mother. Thanks to your parents, we've had a really good life. Better than we could have ever hoped. But Blaine, there are horrible things happening to good people out there. Starvation, people selling their bodies just to get by. The system favors the wealthy. I know when you are the wealthy, it's easy to distance yourself from the mess out there. All it takes is one personal experience to make you change your mind. What would you say if I told you Kurt's family is impoverished, that when he's home, he is forced to sell himself on the streets just to have enough to eat every night?"

Blaine's stomach lurched. He felt sick just thinking about Kurt in such a situation. He swallowed the bile that gathered in his throat.

"It couldn't be. That's not possible. Is it?" His voice was small and shaky. Renna laid a hand on his shoulder to calm him.

"I'm not sure. Kurt has never revealed even the smallest detail of his home life. But do you see what I mean? When it becomes personal, it becomes something you want to fight for."

Blaine let out a gust of breath he had been holding in. "Why are you so brilliant, Renna? God, I'm so lucky you're in my life. I guess I have an assignment to start on."

Renna, who had never wanted for anything in her seventeen years thanks to the generosity of the Andersons (a gesture she may never understand), placed a kiss on Blaine's forehead. "You're wrong. I'm the lucky one."

\---

It was the end of Class Studies on Wednesday, and a pile of papers sat stacked on top of Mr. Brower's desk. He had finished reading through them while the students paired up to work on an in-class assignment. He reserved a few minutes at the end of class to discuss what he had read.

Kurt was jittery in his seat, eager to hear if anyone had made any revelations.

"Most of you discussed the law in your papers. The overarching theme throughout the majority of the essays was that Class matters because of occupation, social standing, government...Kurt, I know you have an opinion on this," Mr. Brower said without even looking in his direction to see if his hand was raised, "but another student made a fantastic point in their paper that I would like to highlight."

Kurt perked up at this, lowering his hand that he had indeed raised in the hopes of adding to the discussion. Had he really done it? Had he changed someone's mind?

Mr. Brower held a paper in front of him and began reading. "Until recently, I had not had any reason to give much thought to this topic. An individual falls into a certain Class, and they are treated as such, and that is that. Similarly, I was under the impression that Class matters because that is what this nation was constructed on. The Class system upholds the law. That's the way it is, the way it has always been, and the way it should be. When I really started to think about it, though, I asked myself what would happen if the laws were different. If the laws did not exist, would Class still matter? If everyone had an equal opportunity to pursue higher education, to join any occupation they desired, if there were no restrictions on who could talk to whom...how would that change our perception of Class?" Kurt's head was spinning. Without thinking, he looked to his right to see Blaine, flushed, and looking at his hands, which were clasped together in his lap, white-knuckled. Was it possible that this was Blaine's paper?

"Perhaps the way we view each other is a product of the law, rather than the other way around." Mr. Brower finished reading, and his eyes flicked to Blaine before returning to the class. That was all the confirmation Kurt needed.

Mr. Brower kept talking about the reflection papers, but Kurt could not pay attention. His eyes were glued to Blaine, and Blaine stared right back at him, trying to convey an impossible message.

When the bell rang to signal the end of class, Kurt bolted right out of the room to deal with his racing thoughts in solitude.

Someone had a revelation, all right. The most important someone of all.

\---

Later that night, Kurt heard a knock at his dorm room door. He was thankful for the distraction, as he had just been turning his and Blaine's last interaction over and over in his head. The question he had posed was a no-brainer for him. _Do_ _you_ _believe_ _in_ _equality_? _Yes_ _or_ _no_? Maybe he had been too hard on Blaine. It could be that all Blaine needed was a push in the right direction.

Kurt opened the door, but nobody was standing there. He looked down and saw a pile of folded clothes. He picked them up. It was his uniform that Blaine borrowed the other day. A small piece of paper fluttered to the ground. He stooped to pick it up. Only one small word was written there in tidy print. That one word was enough to stop Kurt's heart.

 _YES_.


	6. Chapter 6

_YES_. 

The word burned into Kurt's eyes. He forced himself to blink. Five minutes had passed and he still stood stunned in the entrance to his room, staring at the light little scrap of paper that was heavy with the weight of expectation and commitment.

 _Find Blaine_ , was the first coherent thought he had.

Kurt's feet moved numbly across the tiled hallway floors to Blaine's room.

He lifted a shaky hand and knocked, regretting that he had not taken a moment to splash cold water on his face, to make sure he did not look as keyed up as he felt.

Nobody answered. Kurt checked their hideout space and their go-to study room, but still no Blaine. He grew more anxious with each empty room. Every time he blinked, the word _YES_. flashed across his vision.

He had not realized where his body was taking him, but when he arrived at Renna's room, part of that anxiety ebbed, because she was one of the few people who had the power to calm his nerves.

Renna opened the door and her eyes widened at the sight of Kurt’s ghostly pale face and the indescribable look in his eyes. His hand was still over his heart, desperately clutching the little strip of paper to his chest.

“Kurt! What happened?” She put her hands gently on his biceps.

He lowered his hand and held out the _YES_. as if it could possibly explain the state he was in. “I've been looking everywhere. Blaine-" Renna stepped aside and Kurt saw who was standing behind her. “-is here?” He finished. Kurt was not sure when he had made the conscious decision to commit to Blaine, but here he was. He felt something for the other boy - friendship, at the very least. He did not think he could stop the freight train that was the emotion he felt for Blaine. He was too far gone. When he saw Blaine’s face, unsure yet ecstatic, he knew he had made the right decision.

The two boys mirrored each other's movements as they stepped forward. Kurt held out his arms (keeping a tight grip on the paper that had the ability to change everything) and Blaine fell into them, wrapping his arms around Kurt's waist. Kurt breathed deeply, relaxing every muscle of his body as he pressed Blaine against him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Renna excuse herself from the room.

Blaine trembled a little, unable to believe that Kurt seemed to understand and wanted to forgive him. Kurt tugged him in tighter. Blaine’s face was smooshed up against Kurt's chest, but Kurt could have sworn the words he uttered sounded like “I missed you.”

Here, in Blaine's arms, things unexpectedly made sense for Kurt. The way he had been drawn to Blaine, the connection they had made, all while Kurt thought he was a segregationist. But he wasn't. He had said _YES_. He did not know exactly why yet, but he suddenly knew he was meant to be here with Blaine.

They could have stood there for hours for all Kurt knew, blissfully unaware of time passing around them while they clung to each other. Kurt ended up being the first to pull away.

“We need to go somewhere to talk,” he said. Blaine was still holding on to his waist.

“Your room? We can't go to mine since my roommate should be back by now.”

Kurt shook his head automatically, and the apologetic look in his eye brought Blaine back to when Kurt had first told him that he never let anyone into his room, the one place that was his own.

“Right...our study room, then?”

They walked down the hall in silence.

Blaine entered the room first, closing and locking the door behind Kurt.

They plopped into the well-worn loveseat that was shoved in the corner, angling their bodies toward each other so that their knees brushed. After the sense of comfort they drew from each other in their hug a few minutes ago, it seemed crazy _not_ to touch in some way.

“So…” Kurt began, not knowing where to start. He felt so much more in control of his body than he had a few minutes ago, but now it was like his insides had turned to jell-o. But Blaine was in front of him, looking as sure (and cute) as ever, so he knew it would be all right, no matter the outcome of their discussion.

“I've been an ignorant asshole,” Blaine admitted.

Instead of refuting the comment like Blaine expected, Kurt smiled a closed-lip grin and his eyebrows raised knowingly above eyes that glinted with amusement.

“I was raised in a home where the law was never to be questioned. I didn't always like the rules, but it was the way it was meant to be, and I took cues from the rest of my family, just going about my business. I never gave it a second thought. Until I met you.” Blaine inched himself closer and placed a hand on Kurt's knee. “Kurt, you opened my eyes to the injustice in the world. You made me realize, for the first time, that I could have an opinion about the law. I'd always known deep down inside that something was wrong when I saw someone unfairly punished, or told that I couldn't play with the little kids from down the road, but it was you who made me see why it was so wrong. I'm sorry it took me so long, and I have no idea what the implications of this are for my life outside of here, but I think I'm finally on the right track. Please don't be angry.”

Blaine's eyes were so incredibly sincere that Kurt wanted to capture the moment forever. He attempted to mimic the look.

“Angry? Blaine, that's the greatest compliment I could ever hope to receive.”

Blaine lit up in response.

Kurt sighed. The wall seemed to be broken down between them now. He had resigned himself to giving in to this friendship with Blaine, partly because Blaine was impossible to resist. It was hard to capture Blaine with just a few words. As easy as he made it look, Blaine was a very complex person on the inside. Blaine was all of the things Kurt admired and more. He was goofy and funny and warm and caring and compassionate and powerful and inherently good. Blaine would not ever intentionally hurt anyone. Kurt was starting to realize that spending time with Blaine for the next few months was worth any price he would have to pay in the long run.

All of the things he had wanted to say to Blaine over the past weeks bubbled just below the surface, the words straining against his lips. _All or nothing, Kurt_ , he told himself. He opened his mouth and just started talking.

“I know I put you on the spot asking your stance on the Resistance movement, but when you couldn’t answer me immediately...I’m sorry I reacted the way I did. I should have given you time. I know it’s not the same for you, with your upbringing, but I swore to myself that I would only surround myself with people who hold the same beliefs as I do. Fighting against Class injustice is the most important thing in the world to me.” He took a minute to breathe. He knew his intensity on the subject scared some people. He tried to gauge Blaine’s reaction, but only saw placid support, so he continued. “It’s such a personal subject for me. I’ve seen too much in my life. So many bad things happen to good people, and good things happen to bad people just because of their Class. It’s not right. It makes me so incredibly furious. At Dalton, there’s only so much I can do. But when I’m home, I promise I’m doing everything in my power to fight against it. I will until the day I die.”

Blaine’s eyes were wide with wonder. “God, Kurt, you’re so impressive and intimidating when you talk about what you’re passionate about.” He noted Kurt’s flushed cheeks at his compliment. “I think I understand.” Blaine was biting his damn lip again. He had no idea how sexy he was to Kurt. _Friends_ , Kurt reminded himself. Blaine’s hands fidgeted nervously in his lap. Kurt could tell there was something else he wanted to say.

“What is it, Blaine?”

“You said you only surround yourself with people who have the same beliefs as you do, but...with your reaction to my note, I can’t help but to wonder if you want me around _because_ I agree with you.” He looked like he was on the verge of tears.

Kurt stretched out his fingers and rested them on Blaine’s hand that still sat atop his knee.

“God no, Blaine, please don't think that. I was drawn to you even when I thought you might be a prick that wanted to uphold your father’s segregation laws. You’re charming. Attractive. Thoughtful. Those are the reasons I want you around. Now that I know you support the Resistance, it just seals the deal.” Kurt looked into Blaine’s eyes and saw that there was still a flicker of doubt there. “In the interest of full disclosure, it excites me that we’re on the same page. I think that together, we could accomplish so much, and I hope that someday, you might be able to use your power to further the cause. But listen to me, Blaine. I will never, _never_ use you for your position or your influence.”

Those words were what finally got through to the other boy. The breath he was holding left him in a rush. His head fell forward and his hand clasped Kurt’s. Little did Kurt know, he had just put to rest one of Blaine’s biggest fears - getting close to someone only to be used because of who his family was. Here, with Kurt, he now knew that there would never be the risk of being manipulated, that he was liked for _who_ he was, not _what_ he was.

Both boys, hands held together in a joining of intention and will, felt something tugging at their hearts. Something that could only be described as hope.

\---

Over the course of the next few days, Blaine and Kurt fell into a familiar pattern. They walked each other to and from classes, ate meals together, studied together, and when nightmares woke them up, they indulged in their favorite forbidden hobbies together. Renna sometimes joined them during the days and evenings, making up the trio that the other students (and even teachers) could not help watching as they walked by because of the sheer confidence and radiance they exuded. There were many things that Kurt and Blaine still needed to work out about Blaine joining the Resistance, namely what Blaine would do in the future and how he would deal with his parents, but every time Kurt tried to bring it up, Blaine shut him down saying he wasn't ready to think about it yet. Kurt could respect that. _Baby steps_ , they told each other.

On this particular morning, Kurt was awake extra early, so he headed to Blaine's room to pick him up for their walk to breakfast instead of their waiting in usual meeting place in the stairway.

Blaine opened the door almost immediately when Kurt knocked. His hair was a wild mess of untamed curls, shocking Kurt, who had never seen so much as a hair out of place on Blaine's head.

“Kurt!” Blaine had not expected it to be him standing there. He tried to pat down his hair the best he could. “Oh no, you are _not_ supposed to see me like this!”

Kurt smirked. “Blaine in his natural state. Did you really think you could preserve the mystery forever?”

Blaine relaxed as he watched Kurt’s eyes roam over his hair to his face with the same look of appreciation that Kurt had always given him.

“You're the most mysterious person I know. I strive to be like you,” Blaine joked.

Joking aside, Kurt did feel bad that he could not reveal more about himself to Blaine. He just thought that they were better off this way. He hated hiding things from the boy who had quickly become his closest friend, though.

Kurt finally noticed the broom in Blaine's hand, then the shattered glass on the ground behind him.

“What happened?”

“Calen kind of went on a rampage last night. He dumped all of my grooming products down the toilet and smashed my cologne bottle.” His hand came to his mouth to bite his nails, a habit Kurt was learning to hate. He swatted it away.

“He is getting too close to crossing a line with your safety, Blaine. Maybe you should request a room transfer.” The worry in Kurt's expression was clear, but Blaine shook his head.

“That would just make it worse.”

Kurt sighed. “Cleaning is a restricted activity,” he took the broom from Blaine's hand and laid it on the ground. “Let's swing by and ask one of the janitors to clean it up on our way to breakfast.”

“I can't go to class looking like this!” Blaine shrieked, patting his hair again and managing to make it look even more disheveled.

“You look great. Who are you trying to impress, anyway?” Kurt threw him a wink.

“Oh, I don't know. The entire nation, which I will run someday?”

Kurt froze. That pesky little subject kept coming up again and again.

When he recovered, Kurt said, “Fine. You go get someone to clean this and I will go grab you some of my hair product. Meet back here in five.”

Upon his return, Kurt found Blaine waiting for him. Blaine held out his hand for Kurt to give him a dollop of the hair product he had in tow, but Kurt shook his head.

“No way. Sit down.” Blaine obeyed, and then Kurt's fingers were in his hair and _oh my god_ did it feel good. His head tipped back just slightly as Kurt worked, and his eyes drifted shut. Blaine had no idea something so simple could stir such feelings, but he found himself draping his arms over his lap to hide what it was doing to him.

He didn't realize that Kurt's hands had stopped moving across his scalp, but when Kurt cleared his throat and lightly mocked, “Do I need to give you a minute?” Blaine thought he might have died of embarrassment.

Thankfully, he recovered almost instantly. It helped knowing that Kurt was Kurt and he wouldn't judge Blaine.

“Oh, it would take me more than a minute.” He jumped to his feet, slinging his school bag across his body and strategically placing it in front of the problem area. Kurt let out a high, clear laugh and headed for the exit.

They started to leave for breakfast, but Blaine stopped on the way out.

“I almost forgot!” He cried. “This morning has been anything but what I was expecting. I wanted to surprise you…”

“You don't think any of that was surprising?” Kurt smirked.

“Ha ha,” Blaine said dryly. He slipped something small in the pocket of Kurt's bag. “Meet me at our hideout tonight at 10:30. Wear your intake clothes.”

“That's all you're going to say?!” Kurt asked.

“Mystery, remember?” Blaine adored the friendship they had built and the flirty undertones that littered their conversations.

He could hardly wait for tonight.

\---

A few hours later, Kurt had all but forgotten about Blaine's surprise as he had taken over the conversation yet again in Class Studies.

Blaine, sitting next to him, had a totally new perspective on Kurt's outbursts now, and grinned at him like a lunatic the whole time he spoke.

“What if, tomorrow, the laws segregating the Classes were gone?” Kurt posed.

“That would never happen.” A student challenged.

“Why not?”

“Because it's the-”

“It's the way it's always been? Yeah. I've heard. But things are changing out there. All it takes is one person on the Council or close to the Council speaking out and planting the seed. All it takes is one person with influence to voice their opinion to spark the fire and make a change.” He stared pointedly at Blaine.

“I don't think it's that easy,” Blaine said quietly, looking at Kurt, his hazel eyes large. He knew Kurt wanted him to make his own decisions about how to approach the Council and his father, but Kurt also was not going to stop pointing out perfectly good reasons to take his side.

“Who’s to say? Nobody will find out until somebody tries,” Kurt pointed out, watching Blaine's shoulders heave with a hefty sigh. He knew this subject wore on Blaine, but he was determined to show him how important he was to the cause. Kurt tried to make sure his next words spoke directly to Blaine. “We’re the next generation of lawmakers. We have the power to really do something. But we have to step outside of our comfort zone. We have to think differently. Be innovative. Take a chance. It will be worth it.”

He met Blaine's gaze, which was weary but amused and impressed, and Kurt knew his message had hit its mark.

“That gives me a brilliant idea, Kurt,” Mr. Brower chimed in. “For your next assignment, you will pair up and come up with one law you would like to change. Draft a proposal for how you'd like to change it that you will present to the class, and we will vote on it. You have a month to work on it. You will work with the person sitting next to you.”  
Blaine could practically feel the excitement rolling off of Kurt, and for the first time, he too was excited for a school project.

\---

It was not until Kurt was back in his room after classes that day that he remembered that Blaine had slipped something into his bag this morning. He dug around, and felt a thin piece of something soft that felt all too familiar. He pulled it out and stared at it. A black band exactly like the colored one he usually wore around his wrist outside of the academy. The black bands were what Dalton students wore when they went outside of academy grounds on field trips and the like.

A thrill rushed through him. Blaine was taking him out.

At half past ten, Kurt stood just outside the door of his favorite room at Dalton, waiting for Blaine. As per Blaine’s instructions, Kurt wore the outfit in which he had arrived at Dalton, and would wear to leave for the final time. He was suddenly grateful that the outfit was versatile, and one of his favorites.

He felt a little anxious as he waited. Not necessarily because he was about to go with Blaine on what could easily be misconstrued as a date, but more because he didn't know where they were going or what they were doing. He was ecstatic to get off campus, though, as a student, so that nobody could look at his wristband and treat him a certain way just because of what color it was. And okay, maybe a little because his escort for this surprise adventure with the boy he was crushing on.

As Blaine approached, Kurt drank in the shapely figure dressed head-to-toe in black. This was the Blaine that Kurt had seen on television and in newspapers and magazines, stately and formidable. The only difference was the black band around his wrist in place of the purple one he usually wore.

Kurt pushed off the wall to greet him.

“You ready to go?” Blaine asked with a huge smile.

“You have no idea how ready I am. How do we get out?”

“Ahh, one of the perks of being me is that people share their secrets. For example, the security guard at the back courtyard door steps away from his post for a few minutes each night, creating perfect windows for students to sneak in and out.”

“Remind me to hang around you more often, secret-keeper. Lead the way.”

They walked quietly through the halls to the back door, where true to the rumor, the security guard had abandoned his post. The boys scooted right out the door and into the night air. Blaine started walking in the opposite direction than Kurt expected.

“Where are we going? Everything is that way,” he pointed over his shoulder.

“I just happen to know a little place that's _that_ way,” Blaine pointed straight ahead. He continued walking, Kurt following closely behind. Both boys were giddy with anticipation.

Just when Kurt was about to complain about how far they were walking, Blaine slowed down in front of a dilapidated old building. He pulled Kurt around the back down an alley and toward a dark opening.

“No way. Nuh-uh. This is as far as I go. There are probably murderers waiting to ambush us down there,” Kurt protested as he skidded to a stop.

Blaine chuckled. “You have got to trust me. There are no murderers and no imminent ambush. You'll see in just a second.” He held his hand out for Kurt, who took a deep breath before tangling their fingers together.

Just beyond the opening in the wall was a small set of stairs that Blaine cautiously led him down. Kurt could hardly hear anything aside from his furiously pumping heart, but thought he might have heard the muffled sounds of music from somewhere beyond the building. A dim light threatened to escape from underneath a crack in the wall.

As Blaine led them further in, the crack turned out to be a door. He opened the door, pulled Kurt in, and then closed it again. In front of them lay at least five musical instruments, propped up in various places in the small, dingy vestibule.

Kurt looked to Blaine questioningly.

“The price to get in is a little improv,” his whole body buzzed as he stood in front of the keyboard and played a few bars of a tune he made up on the spot. When he stepped back, yet another doorway Kurt hadn't noticed before opened up just a crack. The sounds of the music he thought he had heard earlier became louder and clearer. Blaine tugged on Kurt’s hand and brought him through the door.

“Oh my…” Kurt muttered, looking around.

“What do you think? Do you like it?” Blaine watched him hopefully.

Kurt could only nod as he took in his surroundings. He was in what appeared to be a speakeasy-esque jazz lounge. A small stage sat in the midst of a sea of plush chairs and couches. A bar lined the wall to Kurt’s left, people milling about with glasses in hand. A music track played over the speakers, but the stage was being set up for what looked like a live performance. Kurt noticed that the majority of the people in the lounge looked to be around his age or slightly older.

“Blaine Anderson!” A booming voice called. A very round man in suspenders and a fedora hat with a cigar dangling from his lips came up to them.

Kurt grabbed at his wrist self-consciously, but Blaine pulled his hand away.

“It’s okay,” he whispered. “You’re with me.” Kurt had never expected to appreciate Blaine playing the “Chancellor’s son” card, but right now, he did appreciate it more than anything.

“We haven't seen you in ages,” the man said, hugging Blaine. “And you’ve brought a guest. Is this a boyfriend of yours?” The man reached out to shake Kurt’s hand and though he hated making the observation, Kurt noted the green band around his wrist.

“No sir, just a friend,” Blaine replied easily.

“Ah, too bad. He looks like a good one.”

“He is,” Blaine assured him, flooding Kurt with an unfamiliar feeling. “Kurt, this is Mr. Price. Mr. Price, Kurt.”

“Do you play an instrument?” Mr. Price asked Kurt.

“No sir. I have played around with the piano a little, but…”

“Kurt’s talent lies in his voice. He’s an amazing singer.”

Kurt felt the heat in his cheeks as Blaine gushed over him. He hadn’t ever told anyone aside from his parents that he enjoyed singing before. It was strange for Blaine to be talking so openly about it, but the compliment made him feel warm and fuzzy inside.

“Well then, Kurt. We may have to have you back sometimes to hear it for ourselves. Blaine here doesn't just throw around compliments like that.”

“Thank you, sir, but I'm happy to just sit back and listen.” He was glad Blaine had let go of his hand, because it was now sweating profusely.

Mr. Price chuckled. “You boys enjoy yourselves tonight. Martinez!” He called to the bartender. “Get these two whatever they'd like on the house!”

Kurt and Blaine said their thank yous, grabbed their drinks, and settled down in a comfy couch away from the other patrons.

“How did you find this place?” Kurt was incredulous. His shoulder was touching Blaine's, and the warmth spread through his arm. Or maybe that was the Moscow mule he was sipping on...

“It's called The Cotton Lounge, in tribute to The Cotton Club. Mr. Price has been my piano teacher for years. He opened this last year in the belief that nobody should be denied the joys of music, regardless of their Class. That's why there's no cover charge. But the price of admission is like a secret password, a nod to the classic speakeasy. Have you noticed what else is different about this place?”

Kurt shook his head.

“Look around at the people. Do you see what's weird about who they're talking to?”

Kurt glanced at a trio of people standing across the room. They were all young, pretty people who seemed to be enjoying each other's company, but…why hadn't he noticed before? Their clothing was drastically different from each other. One donned a pristine skirt and blouse, another in a simple sundress, and the third in a threadbare t-shirt and cotton pants. Kurt let his eyes slide to their wrists and he gasped. All three wristbands were different colors.

Blaine’s smile was blinding. “Nobody here cares what Class anyone else is in. This is a safe place.”

“I had no idea the Resistance spread so far,” Kurt whispered in awe.

“I think there are actually quite a few places like this popping up across the nation. They're kept pretty quiet for obvious reasons. People don't usually tell me about them because of the risk of my father finding out, but Mr. Price saw something in me that, until a few days ago, I didn't even see in myself, and he invited me here. When we're not in school, I come here weekly.”

Kurt was practically shaking from the rush of exhilaration he felt. “Blaine, don't you see how important this is? People are starting to fight back! This place is amazing.”

Blaine threw an arm around Kurt's shoulders and gave him a quick squeeze. “I knew it was the right decision to bring you here. Oh, look! She's about to go on!”

A hush fell over the room as a tall, thin woman with the palest, most beautiful skin took the stage. The band started to play and she started to sing and Kurt started to cry.

She was amazing. Angelic. And familiar. He remembered a long, pale face looming over him, singing softly at night to put him to bed at night.

When she finished, tears were unabashedly running down Kurt's cheeks. Blaine turned to him, worry lines criss-crossing his face. Kurt dried his tears with his sleeve.

“She reminds me of...someone.”

“Of your mother.” It wasn't a question. Kurt nodded.

“I'm so sorry, Kurt, I didn't think-”

“No! Blaine, don't be sorry! It just took me by surprise. That's all. This night, bringing me here, it's perfect.”

Blaine looked a little smug. “I'm glad. Maybe we can come back another time.”

“I’d really like that. Maybe we can come here instead of the dinner dance,” Kurt offered.

Blaine dropped his eyes. “I have to go to the dance. It's expected of me.”

“Are you always going to do what's expected of you?”

“Did you expect this?”

Kurt pouted at being proven wrong.

“Baby steps, Kurt.”

\---

The next night, Kurt awoke from a deep sleep to an uneven tapping on his door. His heart started to beat a million beats per second.

Who could be coming to see him after midnight? Certainly some tragedy or something equally horrific had happened. Blaine had taken Renna to the dinner dance that night, what if something had happened to one of them?

The adrenaline surging through him had woken him completely, and rendered his legs almost useless. The doorknob rattled as he tried to turn it.

 _Oh thank god._ Seeing Blaine standing outside his door had an instant calming effect, but as Kurt took in the look on Blaine's face, some of that panic that had previously dissipated crept back up.

Blaine's eyes were red and his brows were knit together. His shoulders were high and tight with tension. Kurt automatically reached out for him, longing to soothe him.

“Are you okay?” He asked as Blaine gripped onto his forearms in return. He looked like a wreck.

“I can't go back to my room. Calen and his friends came back from the party drunk and they threatened me. They said...they said they'd get to me in my sleep.” The fear in Blaine's eyes made Kurt's stomach hurt.

“Jesus Christ, Blaine. You never have to go back there again.”

“I think I'll go sleep in our hideout. But I was wondering if you...could you...come stay with me for a little bit? I'm a little worked up and not ready to be alone.” Blaine bit his lip nervously, looking down at the floor in obvious embarrassment.

Kurt wasn't sure he had ever felt so strongly for a person before in his life. The timid way Blaine asked Kurt for what he needed, his fear of rejection, the need to be comforted and the idea that he could be comforted by Kurt...it was all too much.

“No,” Kurt responded. Blaine visibly shrank back at the word, releasing Kurt's arms, and looking like the ground had been pulled out from underneath him.

“I - I'm - I'm so sorry, Kurt. I thought-”

“You're staying here.” Kurt pulled Blaine into his room for the first time. He stifled a giggle at the confused look on Blaine's face.

“But you don't - I mean - you don't let anyone in your room?”

Kurt locked the door behind the two of them, separating them from the rest of the world.

“Yeah, well, you're not just anyone.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for minor mentions of dubcon...

**Ordinance 360**

Any and all forms of prostitution are prohibited and all offenders will be subject to a fine equal to one half of offender's yearly income.

\---

**Prostitution: A Crime or a Survival Tactic?**

_**Classless Magazine** _

In the Low Class slums of the Midwest, a young mother, Marielle, tucks her three children into bed before heading out into the streets of the marketplace. In this and many other Low Class markets, home-baked foods and handmade goods are not the only things for sale. If only one knows where to look, the company of other people is available for purchase. People from all Classes visit the markets every day, and though some Low Class families are lucky enough to make ends meet through their market stalls, most do not bring in enough income to feed themselves and their children. But a select few Middle and High Class shoppers are looking for something much more valuable than the goods they can find at the stalls. And selling it to them can earn a person enough food to last for weeks. Prostitution is more common than one would think, and grows more popular each day as food becomes scarcer for the Low Class. We asked Marielle the questions that are on everyone's mind.

 **Classless** : When did you first start selling yourself?

 **Marielle** : I was about sixteen. I had just given birth to my first child, and I was starving. It was the only way to stay alive.

 **C** : Is it common for people to start that young?

 **M** : Yes. Some start younger, but most are around sixteen to eighteen. Nobody is interested in picking up someone older than twenty-two, really, so we have to start young to get the most out of it that we can.

 **C** : As a parent yourself, how do you feel about young teenagers entering the trade?

 **M** : I can't imagine allowing my own children to go out there, but when you're hungry, and your children are hungry, I suppose you'll do anything you can to stay alive.

 **C** : The punishment for prostitution is a hefty fine. Most would starve to death if they had to pay it.

 **M** : I was starving to death before anyway. It's a risk I'm willing to take. The folks who come to buy our services...it's something they can't get anywhere else, and it hardly costs them a thing, so they don't speak about it. It keeps us and our operations safe.

 **C** : How common is prostitution in your town?

 **M** : At least one person per family does it, usually. There are plenty of customers to go around.

 **C** : What would you like people to know?

 **M** : Like I said, we are all just trying to stay alive. All of the cards are stacked against us. Instead of turning us in, consider making a purchase in the markets to help support a family. We're doing the best we can with what we've got. Please take a minute to consider that before judging us.

Marielle's story is not much different from most other Low Class prostitutes out there. That certainly makes you think, doesn't it?

\---

It had been ten minutes and Blaine's head was still spinning. In his own room, his safety had been threatened, so he came to the only person who he could think of that made him feel secure. And now he was in Kurt's bedroom. _Kurt's bedroom_. The place he never let anyone into. Kurt typically surprised him at every turn, but this was the greatest surprise of all. Kurt had welcomed him into his sanctuary without a second thought, as if he was someone special.

Kurt had given him an extra set of pajamas and a spare toothbrush, and let him use the bathroom. Blaine took time to collect himself, rinsing his face and practicing deep breathing. When Blaine finally calmed and came out of the bathroom, Kurt was making up the extra bed for him.

"You don't have to do that for me," Blaine protested, taking the blanket from Kurt's hands.

Kurt nodded and stepped back, but stayed close to Blaine, as if expecting him to freak out at any moment.

"Are you going to be okay?" Kurt asked.

Blaine finished smoothing the blanket across the mattress and turned to look at Kurt. What he saw in Kurt's face almost knocked him over. The depths to which Kurt cared for Blaine was evident in his expression, and Blaine wasn't sure he had ever seen that level of concern for him in anyone before. He reminded himself to keep breathing. "I will be. Thank you. For everything." He reached out and gave Kurt a hug.

"Of course. You're my - my friend." Kurt broke away and climbed into bed, Blaine following suit.

Kurt could practically hear Blaine's hesitation. "Kurt, if I'm going to stay here, there's...something I need to tell you." Blaine had never told this to anyone aside from his parents, who had brushed him off, making his feelings seem insignificant once again.

"Anything, Blaine. What is it?"

Blaine burrowed down in the sheets, partially hiding his face. Kurt turned out the lights and settled back in his own bed.

"When I was at Eastern Academy, before Dalton, something happened to me. It's why I had to leave. It was traumatic, and I have nightmares about it that are aggravated by stress. The nightmares can be pretty intense, so if I wake up screaming or thrashing, don't panic. I usually just have to get out and walk around a little and then I calm down again."

The barrage of questions he expected did not come. Kurt did not push him to say more, and Blaine was immensely grateful. He would tell Kurt, he would. But he would do it when the time was right. When Kurt did not respond right away, Blaine wondered if Kurt was thinking about how weak he must be to be so affected by something that had happened to him. But then, Blaine heard Kurt's sheets rustle and saw the silhouette of a hand in the space between their beds. He reached out and found Kurt's fingers with his own. They held on, connecting to each other and passing comfort and acceptance between them. When Kurt's grasp loosened and his hand went limp, Blaine knew he was asleep. He pulled his own hand back into his bed and smiled to himself, beyond happy to have found someone who understood him and with whom he could be his true self.

"Good night, Kurt," Blaine whispered.

\---

The nightmares did not come that night, or the next few nights that followed. Blaine chalked it up to his PTSD being unpredictable, but deep down, he knew that despite the stress of the day, he felt more calm and safe than he had in months here in Kurt's room. That feeling could not keep the nightmares away forever, though, and he braced himself for their return. For the time being, however, Blaine relished every moment of the rested, rejuvenated feeling that was so unfamiliar to him these days.

As he showered in Kurt's bathroom (his bathroom too? Kurt had said he could stay, but Blaine knew better than to assume he meant for the rest of the year), he considered how much had changed since he met Kurt. Aside from Renna, Blaine had never really had anyone to share his thoughts, fears, and hopes with, but Kurt so easily filled that role for him. Blaine had never expected to meet someone that he wanted to spend his life after school with while at the academy, yet with every passing day, it was starting to feel more and more like Kurt could be that person. Kurt was stronger than Blaine could ever hope to be, fiercely loyal, and he was so intensely passionate about what he loved. Blaine couldn't stay away from him even if he wanted to. (Which, for the record, he didn't.) All the time, their relationship creeped up to the fine line between friendship and the wide world of physical attraction and emotional connection, and Blaine craved more of it. He had never really been attracted to anyone the way he was attracted to Kurt, so much so that he had actually worried in the past that something might be wrong with him. But with Kurt, nothing ever felt wrong. The man had even gotten him to pledge his allegiance to the Resistance, for heaven's sake.

Blaine was still very confused on that matter, and it was the one thing hindering the progress in his relationship with Kurt. Blaine knew, without a doubt, that Class separation and injustice was wrong, and that their society was completely dysfunctional. He had absolutely no regrets about telling Kurt he sided with the Resistance. The tricky part was figuring out how this all applied to his life. He loved his parents very much, and did not think they were bad people. He agreed with them that laws existed for a reason, that laws were meant to be followed, and that there should be repercussions for not obeying them. For Blaine, the issue did not lie in the fact that the laws and punishments existed, but rather the content of the laws and the unfairness of the punishments.

In addition, after all that had happened with Cooper, how could he possibly tell his parents that he wanted to change everything they worked so hard to build and uphold? He could not even imagine what they would say or do. Blaine sighed. He thought about asking Kurt for help figuring it out, but Kurt's views were so extreme, that it might be more detriment than help. Would it ever be possible for the two of them to work in harmony when it came to these issues? Blaine was not sure, but he knew that it felt good to stand for something he believed in, and to have such a strong ally in Kurt.

He also knew that Kurt made _him_ feel good. Kurt who was sitting just on the other side of the door. Kurt, whose smiles and soft looks and touches he craved. Blaine was not hiding his attraction to Kurt, and he knew that Kurt was attracted to him too, but Blaine wanted it all. He wanted the romance and the deep connection and the emotional intimacy. He wanted to love Kurt and be loved back. Probably because of his lack of parental presence and love in his childhood, Blaine had always struggled with being emotionally and physically needy, and it was still very difficult to control. He did not want to scare Kurt off by being too pushy, but sometimes he just could not help it.

\---

Kurt sat on his bed with his back against the wall, reading a book while Blaine was in the shower. Blaine, his roommate. He had a roommate again. Never in a million years did Kurt think he would be happy to have a roommate, but what didn't surprise him these days? especially when it came to Blaine.

The two of them had fallen into a comfortable pattern after that first night, cohabitating harmoniously. Kurt had even returned to Blaine's room to retrieve Blaine's things for him so that he would not have to confront his roommate again. Having Blaine around was great. Having Blaine around all the time was...tiring. Kurt was so used to being alone that having someone that close every day, especially someone as endlessly cheerful as Blaine, exhausted him. Thankfully, Blaine understood, and had even learned to read Kurt's cues for when he needed to be alone. He was truly amazing.

Kurt smiled thinking about how their relationship had evolved. Where they had once been all secrets and skirting around each other, they were now honest and familiar and exchanging flirty remarks and deep conversations.

Both boys were painfully aware of the attraction between the two of them. Kurt was learning that Blaine was very physical, and while he himself had never been particularly touchy-feely, he found that he wanted to be when Blaine was around. And then there were the sex dreams. They had not stopped. In fact, with Blaine around more, they had only gotten worse (or better, depending on the viewpoint). Kurt kept himself under control, though, to avoid giving Blaine the wrong idea. While his physical attraction to Blaine was all-consuming at times, Kurt was first and foremost attracted to Blaine for who he was and not what he looked like. But...

 _Holy shit_. Blaine had emerged from the bathroom and he was not wearing a shirt. Kurt's brain went blank. Where had his inhibitions gone? He could not tear his eyes away from the glorious vision in front of him. Blaine's tanned skin stretched tightly over his strong arms and back, still glistening with water droplets from the shower. He was trim and muscular in the way that only an athletic almost-eighteen-year-old could be. Kurt had a weakness for arms and shoulders, and Blaine was giving him so much of both. A drop of water fell from Blaine's hair and ran down the top of his shoulder blade, calling for Kurt's lips to kiss it away. He had to literally hold himself down from crossing the room and indulging. Kurt was pretty sure he was actually drooling. _Snap out of it before he catches you!_ He scolded himself. _Shit! Too late! He sees you staring. Close your goddamn mouth. Say something. Blink. Do anything._

"Kurt?"

Kurt finally snapped out of it, shaking his head to clear it and then smiling at Blaine. He opened his mouth to do damage control.

"Your body is fucking perfect." _Oh my god! Why?_

To his immense relief, Blaine smiled a flattered little smile. "Don't beat around the bush," he joked.

Kurt felt so stupid. How could he have been so insensitive? He put his book down and swung his legs over the side of his bed, regret crossing his face. He averted his eyes to the floor. "Shit, Blaine. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to objectify you. I'm sure you have people ogling at you on a daily basis."

Blaine shook his head so hard that water droplets flew from the ends of his hair. "Do _not_ apologize for that. I do have people ogling at me all the time, but this is not the same. It's not like that with you." His cheeks flushed a little as he said it, hoping Kurt wouldn't misunderstand. But Kurt understood what he meant exactly. He was used to being leered at and catcalled, and was as sickened by it as anyone else. When Blaine stared at his features, though, it was different. Blaine was not objectifying him, and it was not completely lust-driven. He and Blaine had a connection, and that made all the difference in the world. None of that changed the fact that Kurt felt awful, though.

"Still, this is your room too, now. You should be able to be in your own room without someone gawking at you." He still would not look at Blaine. He knew how horrible it felt to be looked at like a piece of meat. It was possibly even worse for Kurt, because the difference between the people who looked at Blaine that way and the ones who looked at him that way was that everyone knew that Blaine was all but off-limits, whereas everyone thought that Kurt was available if the price was right...

Blaine stepped in front of Kurt, and tilted his chin upward. "Kurt, please stop. I _want_ you to look at me like that." Kurt's eyes immediately darted back up to look at Blaine.

 _Oh_. His heart flipped over. "Well in that case…" Both boys laughed, relieving the tension between them momentarily.

"Hey," Blaine said. "I was wondering if you would...would you do my hair like you did before?" Blaine gave him that shy look that he always wore when asking Kurt for one that made Kurt want to do anything for him.

Kurt's heartbeat was so erratic, he was sure it was going to fail. Blaine's sweet requests and shy smiles were going to be the actual death of him.

Kurt stood and commanded Blaine to sit on the edge of the bed where he had been sitting moments before. Blaine complied, waiting for Kurt to return from the bathroom with the bottle of product in hand. Kurt climbed atop the bed and knelt down behind Blaine. He squeezed out a little mousse and began to run his fingers through Blaine's hair. Immediately, Blaine relaxed back against his body, eyelids fluttering shut. Kurt bit back a groan. This was entirely as intimate as it was the first time around. How was it possible that such a simple gesture could be so sensual? Kurt's hands massaged Blaine's scalp expertly, but his thoughts were anywhere but on Blaine, willing himself not to get hard as Blaine's back pressed against him. He did his best to ignore the way Blaine's breath hitched when Kurt's fingers brushed over his ear, the way Blaine's lips parted slightly as Kurt tugged lightly on his hair, the way Blaine's hands were clasped together so tightly that his knuckles turned white...but he failed miserably. He pulled his hips away from Blaine's back as the evidence of his failure grew. Blaine's hair looked perfect. Kurt ran his hands down the back of Blaine's neck to his shoulders and let his hands rest there, brushing his thumb over the spot on Blaine's shoulder blade where the drop of water had been a few minutes ago. Blaine sighed. He grabbed Kurt's right hand with his left and pulled it to his mouth to place a kiss on the back of Kurt's fingers. Kurt was sure that Blaine could hear the rush of breath leave him as Blaine's lips touched his fingers.

"Thank you," Blaine said quietly, and Kurt knew he was not just referring to the hairstyle.

Blaine stood, searching through the basket of clothes they had retrieved from his old room for a shirt to wear. Locating one, he pulled it over his head carefully so he did not ruin his hair. "Now come on, Renna wants to have lunch with us, then we can start on our Class Studies project."

Kurt laughed, the spell obviously broken. "You sound excited. Clearly you've never worked with me on a CS project before."

"Is it anything like the actual class?"

"It's _exactly_ like the actual class."

"Okay, just promise me that there will be no yelling and that you won't storm out on me."

Kurt narrowed his eyes and harrumphed.

Blaine smiled his billion-watt smile. "This is going to be fun."

\---

"No! You promised me no storming out!" Blaine put his foot down.

"I never promised anything. Plus, that was before I knew you would reject every good idea I have!" Retorted Kurt.

"Hardly. I merely said that I didn't agree that 'all of them' was the most appropriate answer to the question 'which law would you most like to change?' in the context of this project. Think about it. If we tore down the entire Class system in one go, society would crumble to the ground. It would take a ten year plan, maybe even twenty, to eradicate such a huge program without major societal collapse. Before we can remove the Class system altogether, we have to start somewhere small. Baby steps, remember?"

Kurt sighed. Blaine was right. Damn him and his political brain and powers of influence. Kurt sat back down. "Fine. If you're so smart, what's your idea, then?"

"I would change the law that forces people who want to ascend or descend Classes to excommunicate with their families. You know that one is near and dear to my heart."

Kurt's heart clenched. He knew how distraught Blaine was about never having the chance to build a positive relationship with his big brother, and how much trouble Cooper's descent had brought his family. What Blaine did not know was that the matter was personal for Kurt, too.

"What if we double it up with the law that forbids Classes from speaking to each other socially? They are similar enough ideas that we could piggyback them on each other."

"That's brilliant. I know it's not one of the hardest hitting issues of equality, but it's one we both understand and feel passionately about."

"And that's exactly the approach we're going to take. We need to aim straight for the Council members' hearts."

"You're really good at doing that," Blaine complimented, knowing they were going to ace this project.

"I know. It's how I got you."

Blaine shoved his shoulder playfully.

The wheels were turning in Kurt's brain. "If this turns out as great as I think it will, maybe it can even reach beyond the scope of our class and this school. Maybe we could use it to make real changes, Blaine. This could be my chance to do something real. Do you think…?" Kurt trailed off, reining himself in so as not to sound like he was trying to push Blaine into anything.

Blaine looked at him with an unfathomable expression. "I think that when it comes to you, anything is possible."

\---

_A fourteen year old boy scrubbed the dirt off of his hands and his face the best he could to look as appealing as possible. It had been days since he had eaten, and even longer for his father. He had to do something, and quickly. He saw the other older kids going out and trying to find a higher Class man or woman to take them to a hotel for a few hours, and come back with baskets of food. There was no reason why he couldn't do it too. Everyone always told him how pretty he was, so surely someone would want to pick him up as a treat for their son...or even for themselves. The boy did not care who it was, or what they asked him to do, even if he had never kissed anyone before. Desperate times called for desperate measures, they always said. They were right. He was willing to compromise his virtue just to eat for a few days. He stepped outside and looked around. It was dark, but candles at the marketplace stalls lit up the streets enough for him to see that there were others prowling around, hoping to achieve the same goal. Scattered among the Low Class people were a few with green or purple wristbands, eyes narrowed in hopes of finding the perfect person to spend the night with._

_The boy was approached almost immediately by two men._

_"Well hello there. Aren't you a pretty little thing? I'd like to take you home and have you blow my mind," one man said, standing too close for comfort._

_"Him? He's much too old for you," the other man said, pointing at the first. "My son is waiting at the hotel around the corner. You are perfect for him. And he's ready to feed your family for a week."_

_The first man took a step closer to the boy, putting a hand on his shoulder. "A week? I'll feed you for a month if you're a good boy."_

_The second stepped forward to match the first. "Who knows? If my son likes you, maybe we could even take your family on and make this a more permanent arrangement."_

_The first man cupped the boy's face with his hand and ran his thumb over the boy's lips. "So pretty. I bet these lips taste so good. Can I have a taste?" The man leaned in, dropping his hand to the front of the boy's pants and-_

Kurt broke through the dream even though his body felt paralyzed. As he lay there, he slowly convinced himself that it had only been a dream, and that he was safe here in his dorm. Across the room, he heard Blaine whimpering and rolling around restlessly. He remembered what Blaine said about having nightmares that stemmed from having experienced something traumatic. More than ever, Kurt wished he could tell Blaine his story and let him know that he wasn't alone.

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song is Melt by JONES :)

_Blaine,_

_It was nice to hear that your studies are going well, and that you are enjoying your time at Dalton. Your father would like to remind you to keep an ear to the ground for mentions of law-breaking. You are to contact him immediately if such a situation should arise. He insists that if you are to become Chancellor someday, you need to learn now not to turn a blind eye to someone's wrongdoing because of a personal relationship or because you pity them._

_Your mother sends her best. She was pleased to know that you are making friends and forming connections. It was a joy for her to see your picture at Dalton's monthly dinner party, surrounded by people who seemed to admire you and take pleasure In your company._

_Your parents look forward to visiting at graduation in a few months and seeing firsthand all of the work you have put in to further their legacy._

_On behalf of the Chancellor,_

_Aaron Brigham_

_Assistant to the Chancellor_

_\---_

_Kurt,_

_You say there are students who are offended by you speaking your mind? I say screw 'em! Don't ever stop standing up for what you believe in. Especially this. I know you're itching to get back home where you can make a difference in someone's life, but what you're doing at Dalton is equally as important. You have the opportunity to shape the minds of the next generation. So keep saying what you think. You never know who it will reach._

_Things here are great. The business is good, and I'm holding down the fort at home, but everyone misses you. They are ready to have you back. I'm a means to an end for them, but they love you. As they should, since many of them are only alive because of you._

_As for this boy you've been talking about...I know I've always supported you in resisting making any lasting connections while at Dalton, but Kurt, if it's hurting you this much to push him away, maybe you should just follow your heart. You never know, there's a chance he could be in our Class, and you'll never have to say goodbye. Trust yourself to do the right thing. You always do._

_Love,_

_Dad_

_\---_

**You are cordially invited to**

**Dalton Academy's April Dinner Dance**

**Saturday the sixteenth of April**

**Seven o'clock in the evening**

**A four-course meal will be served in the dining hall, followed by conversation and dancing in the ballroom**

**Semi-formal attire required**

**\---**

"Please, Kurt? Please go to the dance with me?" Blaine followed him around their room as Kurt put away his laundry that the cleaning staff had returned earlier that day.

"I've already told you. No." Kurt was starting to get frustrated at Blaine's persistence.

"But you know I have to go, and I would love to have you there by my side," he gave Kurt his best puppy dog eyes. Kurt closed his eyes in return to avoid the temptation of giving in to the sweet face before him.

"Please stop, Blaine. No is my final answer." Kurt frowned. He had never been so annoyed with him before. He wished Blaine could just understand where he was coming from.

"Just think about it. It's everything you love. It would be a dream night for you. Getting dressed up, eating a fancy meal, live music, dancing, having yours truly on your arm," Blaine winked at him. "Isn't that what you want?"

Kurt sighed heavily. Blaine was not going to let this go easily. "Yes. It's everything I want. I would love to do all of those things, and above all, there's nothing I would like more than to do them with you. But I can't. You don't understand how...When I'm here, I am limited by what I can do to stand up for what I believe in. There is very little chance for me to make a difference when I'm in the confines of this school. Protesting the injustice of it all by boycotting things like these dinners is something I can do. It's one of the _only_ things I can do. So please let me. Just...drop it, Blaine. Please." Kurt had started his rant completely fired up, but by the end, he sounded defeated and his shoulders slumped slightly.

Blaine put his hands on Kurt's shoulders and straightened them out. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize. I won't bring it up again." He pulled Kurt in for a hug. "Let's go knock out these interviews, shall we?"

\---

True to his word, Blaine did not mention the dance again. He and Kurt spent the next few nights conducting interviews for their Class Studies project. They had decided to collect personal accounts from their educators that captured just how heartbreaking the two laws in question could be.

Currently, Kurt was sitting with the Dean, trying to convince him to share his story.

"It can be completely anonymous, if you'd like," Kurt offered.

"I just don't want anything to happen to my sister because of me."

"I understand. But do you think I would allow harm to come to her? We've protected her thus far. Plus, Mr. Brower and the class will be the only people with access to our project right now."

"And who is your partner again?"

"Blaine." Upon seeing the Dean's doubtful look, he pressed on. "Blaine is trustworthy, Dean Misner. He's trying to be one of us. One of the good guys."

The Dean seemed to think about it for a minute.

"Okay, I'll give you my account. But I want it one hundred percent anonymous."

"You've got it." Kurt flicked on a recorder. "So tell me, how has the ascent/descent law affected your family?"

\---

The night of the dance had arrived without Blaine saying another word about it to Kurt. He had taken his things and gotten ready in Renna's room, so Kurt would not even have to think about it, which was thoughtful, but Kurt wished he could have seen Blaine all dressed up before he left.

All alone, Kurt pored over his math textbook, pushing all thoughts of Blaine and the dance out of his head. Blaine, who probably looked smashing in his academy-issued suit. Blaine, who probably was busy wooing crowds of students with his charms. Blaine, who probably was asked to dance dozens of times by hopeful suitors, but was hopefully turning them down. Blaine, who probably was dancing with Renna tonight instead of him.

Kurt slammed his book shut and arched back over the back of his chair, rubbing his eyes. Why did everything have to be so complicated? Couldn't he have fallen for a nice boy who wasn't the Chancellor's son? But truthfully, he did not want anyone else. He had never met anyone who affected him the way that Blaine did.

Just as Kurt decided to change into his pajamas so he could mope in bed while watching a sad movie, a soft knock came at the door.

 _That's strange,_ Kurt thought. _Who do I know who's not at the dance?_ He almost ignored it, assuming it was a younger student fulfilling a dare to "ding-dong-ditch," but curiosity got the better of him.

Kurt opened the door to see a young boy of about twelve standing nervously, holding out the most beautiful flower Kurt had ever seen.

The long-stemmed rose was a deep red, but the tips of the petals were dipped in what could only be described as liquid gold. He reached out to touch it without thinking, and caressed the silky petals. The boy handed it over to him before scurrying away.

The rose had a slip of paper tied to the stem, covered in Blaine's tidy scrawl.

_One rose for the place where everything changed for us. Go to the chemistry lab._

Kurt's smile threatened to split his face, it was so huge. He followed the note's instructions. Outside of the chemistry lab, he found another rose, the note attached leading him to the next location: _One rose for the place where we met. Go to Renna's room._ From there, he was directed to his favorite study room, the Class Studies room, the bench in the courtyard, his spot under the tree outside.

As Kurt gathered the roses one by one, he realized how thoughtful Blaine was. He knew Kurt was sad to miss out on going to the dance with him, and though he was attending, he still found a way to make Kurt feel special. It was incredibly romantic. Kurt was so lucky to have Blaine in his life.

The roses' notes led Kurt to all of the significant places in their relationship thus far. The little messages reminded Kurt that even the smallest of interactions could make a memory, and that the things he had done made an impact on someone else. Since these places all had some connection to their relationship, Kurt was confused when the seventh rose directed him to the unused restroom in the east corridor next to his favorite hideout. Blaine seemed to remember all of their encounters, but what memory could he possibly have of himself and Kurt in that bathroom? As far as he knew, they had never even been in there together. But again, curiosity won out, and he followed the trail to the downstairs bathroom.

The upperclassmen hallways were quieter than usual, since most people were at the dance, and though Kurt welcomed the silence, there was nothing to drown out his thoughts of Blaine dancing with some random boy. He shook his head, reminding himself that he had no claim on Blaine, who was free to dance with whomever he wanted.

Reaching his destination, Kurt pushed open the bathroom door. Inside, he found another rose, and...was that his suit?

Every student was issued a formal outfit at Dalton to wear for special events. The pants were black and the shirts were white, but they were allowed to select a color for their jacket and tie, with the exception of the Class colors (yellow, green, and purple). Kurt's suit and peacock-blue jacket hung on the door of a stall. There was no mistaking it was his, because he had taken a stencil and drawn on an intricate pattern of shimmery black swirls across the jacket - one of his favorite creations. He read the note on the rose.

_Put this on and go next door._

What could Blaine possibly be thinking? He wouldn't try to push Kurt to go to the dance again, would he? On instinct, Kurt turned the note over.

_Trust me._

Kurt let out a loud laugh. It was funny (and a little disquieting) how well Blaine knew him. He started changing into his suit, carefully folding his discarded clothes, and checked himself out in the mirror. He loved the way he had tailored the suit to fit him perfectly. The color of the jacket and tie made his eyes stand out vividly against his pale skin, and the pants hugged his lower body in all the right places. Kurt wished his hair looked a little better - it had deflated slightly over the course of the day, but still looked acceptable. When he deemed himself presentable, Kurt scooped up his small bouquet of roses and headed next door to his favorite room in the school.

What he found there made his heart stutter and stop. He had, deep down, known that Blaine would be there waiting for him, but he had not expected this. The room was bathed in a dim, warm light, the effect a result of flickering candles scattered throughout the space. The piano had been moved from the center of the room, and a formally-set table sat in the middle of the floor, covered in dishes that filled the room with a mouthwatering aroma. But Kurt could not look long at his surroundings, because a few feet inside the door stood the most amazing and gorgeous person he knew.

Blaine's suit was jet black and his tie was the same deep red as the gold-tipped rose he held out in his hand. He looked as sleek and debonair as Kurt had ever seen him. Blaine's hair was still in the style Kurt had set it in this morning (a daily ritual for them now), and a few curls fell over his forehead, stopping just above his shining, hazel eyes. When Kurt's appraising gaze reached Blaine's face, he had to fight down a gasp. Blaine was looking at him as nobody ever had before. He looked as though he thought Kurt could be a fantasy come to life.

Lost in the moment, Kurt had not realized his feet had carried him right up to Blaine. He reached out and took Blaine into his arms, hugging him tightly. Kurt pulled away from the embrace, stopping with Blaine's face unbearably close to his. Their eyes locked, and Blaine's hands tightened on Kurt's waist. Blaine held his breath and leaned in another inch, his eyes drifting shut. Kurt drew in a sharp breath and turned his head away toward the setup of the room.

"What is all of this?"

Blaine took a moment to respond, slowly opening his eyes and pulling back from Kurt. He tried to hide his disappointment, but Kurt caught a glimpse of it before Blaine could tuck it away. Blaine recovered, though, and his usual bright grin took over his face once more.

"It's our own personal dinner dance. So you can stand up for what you believe in and still do all of the things you always wanted. With me."

Tears glistened in Kurt's eyes. He could not believe someone would do something like this for him.

Blaine grabbed his hand and took him to the dinner table. "Let's eat. I'm starving!" He pulled Kurt's chair out, but stopped him before he could sit down. "Wait! I almost forgot!" He held out the rose in his hand, and Kurt realized the stem had been cut. Blaine pinned it on his jacket before going to his own chair and sitting down.

"These roses are beautiful," Kurt motioned to his jacket and to the small bouquet that now served as a centerpiece for their table. "Did you make them?"

Blaine nodded proudly. "I couldn't just pin a normal, everyday flower on you. It had to be as unique and creative as you are. So I made a little adjustment. Do you like it?" He asked hopefully.

"Roses dipped in gold...such a unique accessory, I wish I had one to wear every day. It would make a stunning signature piece." Blaine could see the designer wheels turning in Kurt's head. "Now please tell me you didn't steal this food from the dining hall."

"Do you take me for a petty thief?" Blaine pretended to take offense, stabbing his fork into his salad and lifting it to his mouth. "Nah, one of the chefs has a soft spot for me, and he helped me out."

"Ooh, a male chef with a soft spot for you? Should I be worried about my competition?" Kurt joked.

"Only if you think I'm into octogenarians."

Kurt shook his head. "Hey, I don't pretend to know all of your kinks."

"Oh my god, Kurt!" Blaine laughed. Then, his eyes became earnest and looked up at Kurt through his lashes. "No, there is no competition."

Kurt bounced in his seat slightly, enraptured with how the night was unfolding. "So you've got the dinner part down-with the help of your 80-year-old boyfriend, of course - and I hear music, but it's not live. So…?"

"Oh, the live music part comes later." The music currently playing through the speakers in the room was jazz, which brought Kurt back to their off-campus escapade.

"Are you taking me out again?"

"Nope. We're staying right here."

They ate in silence for a few minutes before Blaine spoke up again.

"So was my setup with the roses too much?" He waited for Kurt's response anxiously, knowing that he often went over-the-top with people.

"Too much? No. Not for me. I'm a sucker for romance."

"Well then you've come to the right place, Mr…" Blaine wrinkled his forehead as he thought. "I wish I knew your last name. I wish I knew _something_ about you."

Kurt shrugged. "You do know me, Blaine. Don't you see? You knew exactly how to be romantic tonight. You knew exactly how to make me feel better about missing out on the dance with you. I was laughing at your last note, because it was like you could read my mind. You always know how to read me, and that's something almost nobody else has."

Blaine blushed and preened at Kurt's compliment. It did not, however, satisfy his craving to know more about Kurt. "Tell me something about you that I don't know."

Kurt thought for a moment, digging into his main course. He popped a forkful of seared snapper into his mouth. It was hard to give out personal information at the academies without breaking the rule about not divulging Class status.

"Sometimes, when I'm really tired and deeply asleep, I snore," he admitted.

"Already know that. Try again."

"What?" Kurt asked, incredulous. "You've heard me snore? Well, that's embarrassing."

"It was adorable," Blaine said, resting his chin on his hand, eyes indicating that he thought everything Kurt did was adorable. "Pick something else."

"When I get letters from home, it is the happiest part of my week."

A dark cloud settled over Blaine's eyes, and he sat back in his chair a little.

"Did I say something wrong?" Kurt worried, reaching forward. Their hands met over the table, twining together. When Blaine failed to answer right away, Kurt squeezed his hand, trying to reassure him. "I saw you rip up the letter you received this morning. Does this have something to do with that?"

Blaine nodded tensely. "Let's not talk about it right now, though. This is supposed to be a fun night." He looked up at Kurt and a smile spread across his face once more. "Should I bring out the dessert?"

"Yes!" He let go of Blaine's hand, but continued to worry about him. He knew Blaine's relationship with his parents was out of the ordinary, but he hoped it was not causing Blaine too much stress. He decided to make it his mission to help Blaine forget about all of that tonight.

Over dessert, they discussed their favorite singers, and Blaine learned more about Kurt. He loved to watch the pieces of the puzzle that was Kurt come together slowly.

"Speaking of singers, unless you're hiding a band in the bathroom next door too, I'm starting to doubt your promise of live entertainment tonight," Kurt taunted.

"How dare you doubt me?" Blaine joked. "If we're finished with dessert, I will prove you wrong."

"...So you do have a band hiding in the bathroom."

Blaine laughed loudly. "Not exactly." He stood and walked over to a stool in front of the couch and sat down, reaching for a guitar that sat next to the piano. "Surprise! _I_ am your live entertainment!"

Kurt felt momentarily shocked. Blaine always played for him, but never sang. Excitement flared in Kurt's belly, and he sat down on the couch, watching Blaine carefully. He tried to remember every last detail about the room, about the conversation, about _everything_. He knew this was a night he would never want to forget.

Blaine pulled the guitar across his body and met Kurt's eyes with an expression that conveyed how much he, too, wanted to remember tonight.

He began playing, and Kurt immediately fell under Blaine's spell.

 _Whatever happens_  
_You know we're gonna repair_  
_No matter what happens_  
_You know we've got something rare_

Blaine's voice was perfect. It floated straight across the space between them and settled in Kurt's heart. How could this boy be everything Kurt ever dreamed to have in a partner?

 _We started with nothing, grew into something_  
_We got the heat_  
_To last a lifetime, if it's the right time_  
_Trust in me_  
_Take it from someone who's had a tough run_  
_No matter what happens_  
_No matter what happens_

Blaine was telling him, through song, that he thought they had something special that could rise above whatever challenges life threw at them. If only Kurt could explain that there might be factors that could overpower their bond. But it was such a beautiful sentiment, and so powerful to know that Blaine felt so strongly about them that Kurt couldn't help getting emotional.

 _We've got the heat_  
_Melt with me_  
_You know we've got the heat_  
_Melt with me_

_Come on, melt with me_

Kurt watched Blaine finish the song and set the guitar down tenderly before walking over to the couch. He watched Kurt's face for his reaction, expecting to see excitement and hope, but Kurt was frowning and wiping a tear away from his cheek.

"You didn't like it?" Blaine whispered, afraid of the answer. He felt tears bubbling up in himself, in the face of rejection.

Kurt took Blaine's hands and pulled himself up to stand.

"Oh, god, that's not it at all. I loved it. You sing beautifully. You moved me to tears, Blaine." He saw Blaine's face transform from self-deprecating and dispirited to a mix of pride and affection.

"But then why are you frowning?"

"Well, there's just one problem. I could listen to you sing all night. All my life, really, if I had the chance. But I was promised dancing, and how can you dance with me if you are the live entertainment?"

Blaine's returning smile made Kurt's heart soar.

"That's what this is for." He hit a button on a small remote, and music filled the air once more. He extended his hand. "May I have this dance?"

Kurt gladly accepted. They walked to a cleared space on the floor that was perfect for dancing, and, as if they had been doing it all their lives, Blaine folded into Kurt and they began swaying.

They were both content there on the dance floor in each other's arms for what seemed like hours. Blaine let out a happy sigh, and Kurt pulled him in even closer, inviting Blaine to rest his head against Kurt's shoulder. Blaine nuzzled his nose into Kurt's neck, breathing in the scent of him as Kurt did the same to his hair.

"I could stay like this forever," Kurt muttered wistfully.

Blaine hummed in agreement, thinking that he could not have been happier than he was in this moment. But then Kurt started singing softly in his ear, and oh yes, _now_ he was sure he could never be happier.

Kurt's singing trailed off in the middle of a chorus, causing Blaine to pull back and see why he had stopped, but Kurt was just smiling dazedly, staring at Blaine.

"What's going through your mind right now?" Blaine prompted.

"Just thinking about how insanely perfect this night is, and how incredible you are. Why did you do all of this?" He asked, still clinging to Blaine's hand and waist as if he would drift away if he let go.

Blaine brushed his lips against the tips of Kurt's fingers. "I did it because you said you didn't want to go to the dance and I didn't listen. But it was important to you, and what's important to you is important to me. Because you are so, so special to me, Kurt."

For the second time that night, Blaine leaned forward, closing the distance between their lips. He wanted - no, _needed_ \- to kiss Kurt. And for the second time that night, Kurt pulled away at the last second.

Blaine looked deep into Kurt's eyes, searching them desperately. "I'm not sure what it is that's holding you back, but try to let it go. Just be here...with me...just for tonight. Let go."

Blaine's words were like magic. Kurt loosened his hands from Blaine's grasp and brought them to Blaine's face. His fingers traced across Blaine's hairline to his cheekbones and down to his lips. They ghosted across his mouth, down and around his jawline, and one hand stopped to hold the side of Blaine's face while the other hand trailed down his neck and rested on Blaine's shoulder.

Blaine remained completely still beneath Kurt's touch, afraid that if he moved even an inch, he would burst into flames. But when Kurt's lips finally, finally met his, he could not help it, and _oh dear god_ , he was on fire. Kurt's lips were softer than he had even imagined. He tasted delectable. Blaine's hands slipped underneath Kurt's jacket and splayed over his back. He thought he had reached total bliss when he was dancing with Kurt, and then having Kurt sing to him, but everything just kept getting better and better and better.

If Blaine was on fire, Kurt was melting from his heat. He never let himself give up control like this, and it was the most glorious feeling, losing himself in Blaine. The uncertainty that the future would bring had been holding him back, but as soon as Blaine told him to let go of them, it seemed so simple. And he was so glad he had listened. Because kissing Blaine was like nothing he had ever experienced.

As their lips began to move together, Kurt realized his thumb was resting on the exact spot on Blaine's shoulder blade that he had imagined kissing the water droplet off of just days previously. Overcome with a sudden urge, his hands came to Blaine's neck and loosened his tie and undid the few top buttons on Blaine's shirt without breaking the kiss. Kurt's hands slipped under the shirt and the touch of Blaine's skin against his fingers might as well have actually burned him with all the heat that passed between them. Blaine released a groan as Kurt's hand brushed over his collarbone and skated across his shoulder. His thumb rubbed across the desired spot on the back of Blaine's shoulder, coaxing Blaine into all but a puddle on the ground.

Tentatively, Kurt pushed his tongue into Blaine's mouth, and it was welcomed with such enthusiasm that Kurt giggled with giddiness, breaking the kiss.

The boys held each other up, both too blissed out to do much else.

"That was my first kiss," Blaine told him, staring as if Kurt was the most wondrous thing to look at.

Kurt grinned. "Did it live up to expectations?"

"Since when do you do anything anyone expects of you?" Blaine asked playfully.

"True. I aim to blow expectations out of the water."

"Mission accomplished," Blaine informed him happily.

"Let's continue this mission on the couch," Kurt removed their jackets and dragged Blaine to lay down on the couch, so that Blaine was practically laying on top of him. They kissed and kissed until their lips hurt, and then kissed some more. Neither was bold enough to try anything more that night, but it did not matter. It was perfection.

When they grew too tired to continue, Blaine stayed wrapped around Kurt, laying his head on Kurt's chest.

Kurt wanted to stay forever like this, but after nodding off for the second time, when the candles had burned so low they were starting to go out, Kurt gently shook Blaine awake.

"We should clean up and go upstairs to bed."

Blaine only snuggled in closer. "But I want to keep cuddling with you. Forever, preferably," Blaine pouted. Kurt decided that sleepy, pouty Blaine was his favorite Blaine.

Kurt laughed, unwrapping Blaine's arms from around him and pulling them both slowly to their feet. "Who said anything about being done with cuddling?"

\---

Once the boys were back in their room, Kurt changed into pajama pants, foregoing the shirt, brushed his teeth, and climbed into his bed. Blaine came out of the bathroom a few minutes later. He spotted Kurt's bare chest and ripped off his own shirt. "If you don't have to wear one, I don't either," he laughed.

They had seen each other shirtless before - it was inevitable as roommates - but as Kurt patted the bed beside him and Blaine climbed into his bed for the first time, it was so much more intimate.

Their hands, as if by some invisible force, attached themselves immediately to the other's bare skin, exploring the uncharted territory while the boys kissed lazily. Kurt thought he would never go to sleep, but eventually, Blaine's touches grew lighter and lighter until they stopped. Kurt attempted turning them over to spoon Blaine, but Blaine protested through his sleep.

"Nuh-uh. I wanna be big spoon." Blaine cuddled up behind Kurt, and planted a kiss right on the exact right place on the back of Kurt's shoulder.

Kurt shuddered and sighed. "Thank you for tonight, Blaine. It was like a dream come true."

Kurt could hardly catch what Blaine mumbled as he drifted off to sleep, but it sounded a hell of a lot like " _You_ are a dream come true."


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Be warned that we're revisiting both the violent dream scene and the dubcon scene in extended form.  
> Thanks to everyone for all the love so far. :)

  
**BREAKING NEWS** ***13 IN CUSTODY AFTER PEACEFUL RESISTANCE MARCH TURNS VIOLENT***CHANCELLOR TO SPEAK AT PRESS CONFERENCE 2:30***

_Everything was dark. Everything was dark and dizzy and pain, pain, pain…_

_Something hard crashed into Blaine's leg. Surely the bone had broken upon impact. He feebly strained against the arms that held him down._

_"Please. Stop."_

_"Tell us and we will." A voice demanded._

_"No, no, no," he whimpered. A fist connected with his stomach. He vomited._

Help me _, he thought. Nobody helped him._

_"Just tell us."_

_"Why me?" He squeaked out._

_"We know who you are. We know what you've done."_

_"No."_

_A twist of his arm. A crushing of his fingers. Pain, weakness, guilt…_

_"Admit it. Now!" One of Blaine's captors held him up and a fist came down on his face. "Admit what you've done!"_

_He was outright sobbing now, tears mingling with blood, the pain and the guilt and the need to make it stop too much to bear._

_"Did you do it?" A hand tightened around his throat._

_He was sure he was going to die. He thought they'd never stop. He squeaked out his answer._

_The two pairs of hands left him suddenly, and he sank to the floor, crying out in pain._

Oh thank god it's over _, he thought in relief._

_Before he could take a full breath, though, a kick sent him skidding across the ground, clutching his side. And then the true devastation came. Hits were raining down on him from all angles. He didn't think he could hold on any longer._

_"How could you, you fucking Elite prick?"_

_"You destroyed our family!"_

_He used the last of the breath in him to plead. "Please. I couldn't - my father…"_

_One final blow and it was all over._

_"Blaine." The voice of an angel spoke through the darkness. "Blaine."_

Blaine opened his eyes to find Kurt standing just off the side of the bed, calling his name and staring at him with concern in his eyes.

"What's going on?" he asked wearily. He usually came out of his nightmares either panicky and feeling like the walls were closing in on him or totally exhausted and disoriented. Neither was preferable. This was the latter. He focused on breathing to collect his thoughts.

"You had a nightmare. You were thrashing and screaming and then you just...stopped. You were completely still. I thought - You scared me. Are you okay? Do you need a glass of water? Do you need to get up and go for a walk?" Kurt's hands were flitting about aimlessly while he waited for Blaine to tell him what he needed.

What Blaine needed was someone to comfort him.

"Why are you all the way over there?" He asked, lifting his head to give Kurt a confused look, but the exertion of the single action was too much, and his head flopped back down on the pillow.

"Because you told me that when you wake up from nightmares, you need space. I thought if I was too close it would make things worse."

A rush of love flooded Blaine's heart. "You remembered?" Kurt nodded sheepishly, still hovering and not quite knowing what to do.

"It's not always like that. Sometimes I just feel worn out and…alone." His chin quivered.

Kurt took the cue and scrambled across the bed to take Blaine in his arms.

Kurt did not say anything, just held on, brushing his fingers through Blaine's hair. The sound of Kurt's steady heartbeat helped Blaine even out his breaths and calmed him.

By the time he felt like he was in control of his body and thoughts, Kurt's fingers had stopped moving, though his hold on Blaine was as strong as ever.

"Kurt? Are you still awake?" Blaine whispered, squirming a bit to try again to lift his head to look at Kurt.

"Yeah, baby, I'm here," Kurt's voice, barely a whisper, sent tingles down Blaine's spine.

"You've never asked me why I transferred to Dalton."

"It's not really any of my business. And you were so irritated with everyone else whispering about it that I didn't want to push you too. Why? Do you want to talk about it now?"

Blaine nodded. "You've been so amazing to me these past few weeks and I - I think you only see the good in me. You need to know about the ugly too. Then you can decide if you still - still want me." Just the thought of Kurt turning away because of what he'd done made Blaine's heart ache.

Kurt tilted Blaine's head up to look at him, then returned his arm back to where it was wrapped around Blaine, who had started to shake.

"When I was at Eastern," Blaine began, "there were these two girls who _despised_ me. I didn't know why, exactly. I couldn't remember a time in all of our years at school together that I had been anything less than polite to them. But...then I remembered. My father is responsible for handing down the most severe punishments. If someone from the Low Class can't pay the fine for a crime they've committed, my father is the one who sentences them to death." He paused for a moment when Kurt's fingers dug painfully into the skin just above his hips. "He has always brought me along with him to deliver these sentences and punishments, because he always thought I needed a little toughening up."

Kurt squirmed. "I'm sorry, I don't know if I can listen to this," he whispered.

"This isn't even the worst of it. I'm sorry. I just really need you to hear this."

Kurt nodded, breathing in through his nose and out through pursed lips.

"Once or twice, my father has required me to make an accusation against a crime I had witnessed. There was a Low Class woman…" Blaine was choked up remembering, and needed a minute before he could speak again. "She and her kids were so thin, they looked like one touch could break them. We had overheard her making a deal with a High Class woman - a few hours of intimacy in exchange for a week's worth of food for her whole family. Since I had witnessed it, my father made me stand in front of the Council and turn her in. Well, you know the punishment for that crime. She now had to support her family on half of the income that could barely feed them as it was. I later found out that she and her youngest child died of starvation." Blaine swallowed the bile that threatened to leave his throat. Kurt, fighting with his own bodily reaction to Blaine's words, tried to comfort Blaine the best he could, seeing how distressed he was just speaking of this.

"The girls who hated you...they were her children, weren't they?"

Blaine was so thankful to Kurt, who he knew had strong feelings on the matter, for letting him finish his account without cutting in angrily. He nodded to answer Kurt's question.

"They were. And as much as I tried to pretend it hadn't ever happened, since that's apparently how I cope with hard issues, it caught up to me. One night while I was asleep in my room, the girls abducted me from my bed and dragged me to an empty storage space. They asked me to talk, to admit what I had done, and when I refused, they attacked. In the end, I gave in and let the guilt and shame crush me, since it matched how awful I looked and felt on the outside." Kurt could tell Blaine was editing out many of the gruesome details. "Someone found me the next morning, thankfully. I honestly thought I would die there. It would have been what I deserved anyway. I spent three weeks recovering in the hospital after that, and three more at home before coming here. My knee and shoulder still bother me sometimes when I overdo it. A reminder of what I've done, I suppose." He fell silent. Kurt didn't make a single noise. He was so quiet that Blaine had to look up again to make sure he had not fallen asleep. Kurt's face was stone cold and his lips were pursed.

Tears fell down Blaine's face once again. "Kurt, please say something. I've never talked about this with anyone other than my parents, who don't understand how I feel... _please_ , Kurt. _Anything_." Blaine pleaded, clutching onto Kurt's shoulder in desperation.

Kurt closed his eyes and took a deep breath, but never let go of Blaine's waist. When he opened his eyes, they were unreadable.

"What do you want me to say? What _can_ I say? What you just told me is horrible. And to know that you played a role in it makes me so sick. I would _never_ -" He held himself back from finishing his thought. It was a while before he spoke again. "But thinking about those girls attacking you and leaving you for dead? That's almost as horrible. You don't...no matter what you think, I don't think you deserved that. It's not your fault that the world is so fucked up so deep to its roots that a woman and her child died just because she was trying to get by. I can't even begin to know what it is like to be you. I can hardly put myself in your shoes-"

"If you were in my shoes, you would have done something different. You would have lied, resisted, taken whatever your father dished out to protect that woman." Blaine hung his head.

"You're right. I would have," Kurt agreed. "Don't get me wrong. I _hate_ that you did what you did and that you didn't stand up to your father. But just because you did something bad doesn't mean you're a bad person, Blaine."

Blaine was shocked by the turn the conversation had taken. "You don't think I'm bad?"

Kurt surprised him by laughing. "You're bad at a lot of things, Blaine. Chess, crossword puzzles, hanging your towel back up after you've showered…but no, being a good person is not one of the things you're bad at."

Now Blaine was laughing with Kurt.

"God," he said when the laughter died down. "You're so much stronger than me. I wish I could be as strong as you are."

Kurt pulled him in close. "I've had a lot of time and reason to practice. You...you're stronger than you know. You just have to find that strength."

Blaine was not sure he believed Kurt, but he did not want to argue right now. Filled with feelings of immense relief and acceptance, he snuggled in and drifted off once more, this time into a dreamless sleep.

\---

That night was a turning point for Kurt and Blaine. Every morning after, Blaine brought Kurt a freshly cut rose dipped in gold, and every morning, Kurt pinned it to his shirt. They no longer slept alone, preferring the comfort of the other person during the night. When Blaine's nightmares struck (though they had occurred very rarely since his talk with Kurt), Kurt gave him either the comfort or the space he needed, and Blaine appreciated that he could tell the difference. They now kissed freely, though they had not gone beyond making out, and whispered flirtatious compliments and encouraging affirmations to each other, though they had not discussed their feelings for each other any further. They were both so happy, and for now, that was enough.

Kurt and Blaine were pulling together the final touches for their Class Studies project in their room, and were quite pleased with how it had turned out. They were scheduled to present it the following day, and they were fully confident that the mock Council would accept their proposal.

"We got twelve personal stories from our professors. Can you believe that twelve people thought that what we had to say was important enough to contribute?" Blaine asked as they sat side-by-side, looking at their proposal.

"I can. And anyway, _you_ got nine stories, I got three. I'm sorry you were stuck doing all of the work." Kurt apologized.

"Hey, you can't help it that most of our professors are scared of you."

Kurt barked out a laugh, hitting Blaine's arm lightly. "Okay, maybe they're a little afraid of me and how...intense...I can be, but the reason you were the one to persuade so many of them has less to do with me and more to do with your way with people. You command respect like nothing I've ever seen before. People want to trust you. It's truly amazing."

Blaine blushed profusely. He dropped the pencil he was holding, looking nervous.

"Kurt, when you say things like that, it makes me...Doyouwanttobemyboyfriend?" He blurted out the last few words in a rush, looking at his hands.

"No," came Kurt's reply. Then he took Blaine's hands and corrected himself. "No. Shit, Blaine. Not what I meant. Let me try again. What does being someone's boyfriend mean to you?"

Blaine looked at him seriously and replied. "It means being there for the other person no matter what. It means supporting him in what he does, and him supporting you. It's giving everything to him without expecting anything in return. It's knowing him and being so connected with him that you don't have to even ask him how he feels about things. It's having a date to parties and kissing and...more." The way Blaine's face lit up when he spoke of being a boyfriend shot an arrow of affection straight through Kurt's heart.

"Please understand me when I say this. I want every single one of those things you just said and more. But I don't think we need to be confined by the label of 'boyfriends.'" He saw the unsure look on Blaine's face. "But if you're not sure - god, if you're not sure that's what you want, then we won't-"

"I'm sure!" Blaine piped up. "I want to be able to call you my boyfriend, but if that's not what you want, then I'll take anything you have to give."

Kurt ran a hand through his hair. "That's not exactly...I want to be certain that you're getting what you want out of this, and not settling just because I refuse to give in."

"You're not refusing, you're compromising. You might not want the label, but you are giving me everything else I want. So we can call it or not call it anything you want. As long as I have you." Blaine kissed Kurt on the nose and turned back to his work. "Now let's knock this out!"

Kurt felt somewhat better about the situation after Blaine's reassurances, and focused his attention on the project.

Before he went to bed that night, Kurt added one last personal story to the presentation that would be listed as "anonymous" - his own.

\---

Kurt Hummel was just a young boy when his mother died. She was a beautiful woman, and the most compassionate person Kurt would ever meet in his lifetime. But the Hummels were poor, and food was not easy to come by. Elizabeth Hummel would swear that she had enough to eat, but at each meal (if they were lucky to eat at all), she would sneak more and more of her own food onto her husband's and son's plates. There was no extra money for a doctor, so as she slipped further and further into the clutches of starvation, the only thing Burt and Kurt Hummel could do was sit back and watch her go.

Her death was devastating to the Hummel boys. She was their world. And now the only thing they had was each other.

After she was gone, Kurt would cry for his Mama at bedtime, begging her to come back and sing to him. It broke Burt's heart. He could not sing, but one night, unable to take one more second of his little boy's grief, told Kurt a story.

_There once was a princess who had all the money in the world. She went to a faraway school, and there, she met a poor man. The man fell in love with the princess as soon as he saw her. She was lovely and kind, and when she sang, everyone stopped to listen. The man and the princess became friends, and one day, he confessed his love for her. To the man's surprise, the princess told him she loved him as well. But there was a problem. Because he was poor and she was a princess, there was only one way for them to be together. The man did not think he would be allowed to ascend be a part of her family, so he said his goodbyes to her and they parted ways. But the beautiful princess surprised him once again and descended to become a part of his family instead. By doing this, she had to say goodbye to her parents and her sisters forever, but the man and the princess were in love, and were very happy to be together. They decided they wanted to start their own family, and the day their baby boy was born was the happiest day of their lives. The three of them did not live an easy life, but it was a life full of love. One day, the princess became very sick, and she left this world, leaving the man and the boy alone. They missed her very much, but they still had each other, and that meant everything would be okay._

Kurt knew the story was the story of his family, and he loved hearing it, so he asked for it every night. The ending was the saddest part, but also his favorite part. He carried the mantra "they still had each other, and that meant everything would be okay" with him wherever he went in life.

As he got older, Kurt and his father were happy together, but his father's auto parts business was not enough to keep the two of them fed. Hungry, and watching his father waste away, Kurt knew what he could do to help. At night, he scrubbed the dirt off of his hands and his face the best he could to look as appealing as possible. It had been days since he had eaten, and even longer for his father. He had to do something, and quickly. He saw the other older kids going out and trying to find a higher Class man or woman to take them to a hotel for a few hours, and come back with baskets of food. There was no reason why he couldn't do it too. Everyone always told him how pretty he was, so surely someone would want to pick him up as a treat for their son...or even for themselves. The boy did not care who it was, or what they asked him to do, even if he had never kissed anyone before. Desperate times called for desperate measures, they always said. They were right - he was willing to compromise his virtue just to eat for a few days. He stepped outside and looked around. It was dark, but candles at the marketplace stalls lit up the streets enough for him to see that there were others prowling around, hoping to achieve the same goal. Scattered among the Low Class people were a few with green or purple wristbands, eyes narrowed in hopes of finding the perfect person to spend the night with. The boy was approached almost immediately by two men. Kurt had no idea what to expect, having no experience in anything remotely sexual, but from the very beginning, it felt so wrong.

"Well hello there. Aren't you a pretty little thing? I'd like to take you home and have you blow my mind," one man said, standing too close for comfort. Kurt balked, but he did not back away. Too much was on the line.

"Him? He's much too old for you," the other man said, pointing at the first. "My son is waiting at the hotel around the corner. You are perfect for him. And he's ready to feed your family for a week." The first man took a step closer to the boy, putting a hand on his shoulder. "A week? I'll feed you for a month if you're a good boy." The second stepped forward to match the first. "Who knows? If my son likes you, maybe we could even take your family on and make this a more...permanent arrangement." The first man cupped the boy's face with his hand and ran his thumb over the boy's lips. "So pretty. I bet these lips taste so good. Can I have a taste?" The man leaned in uninvited, dropping his hand to the front of Kurt's pants and hungrily devoured his mouth. Kissing didn't feel anything like he'd always imagined. Instead of soft and sweet and tingly, he felt rough and dirty and compromised.

With impeccable timing, Kurt's father burst out of the house from behind him, and Kurt jumped back as if he had been burned.

"What the hell is this?" Burt demanded angrily.

The men looked at Burt, sizing up the situation. "Oh, is this pretty little one yours?"

Burt grabbed Kurt's shoulders and pulled him to his side. "Yes he's mine. He's my son. He is not for sale. And he never will be. So don't ever come back here again, or I'll turn you in."

The men scurried off without another word, leaving Burt to usher a sobbing Kurt inside.

"What were you thinking, Kurt?" Burt's voice was laden with emotion as he pulled Kurt into a tight, protective embrace.

Tears streamed down Kurt's face. "I don't want you to die, too."

Burt gasped around the lump in his throat, holding his boy tight to his chest. "You won't ever lose me. The plan we discussed. We have to."

"We can't, dad. We will be caught." Kurt shook his head, but Burt was firm.

"We've already lost your mom. I won't let anyone else I love die of hunger ever again."

That was that. And for the next four years, not one person in Burt and Kurt Hummel's village felt the pangs of hunger, not even once.

\---

The recording of a familiar voice played through the Class Studies room as Kurt and Blaine presented their project.

" _Did you have a best friend when you were in the Academy?_ " Kurt's voice asked the invisible person on the other side of the tape recorder.

_"I did. Her name was Sarah. We were inseparable. We had plans to move in together after Academy, and we were going to travel the world after graduation. She was the best person I've ever known. She was bright, sassy, empowering…"_

" _And what is Sarah doing today?"_

The voice of the interviewee trembled. " _I don't know. Graduation day was the last time I ever saw her. She's High Class and I'm Middle. We had no idea. We were so compatible that we thought we must be from the same Class. We were best friends - soulmates, even - for twelve years. How could she be taken away from me just like that?_ " She dissolved into tears.

A pause, and then Blaine's voice spoke through the recorder this time.

" _How has the ascent/descent law affected your family?"_

 _"We lost my son._ " A gruff voice, distorted for anonymity responded. " _He ascended for the man he loved. I respect his decision, but I don't think I will ever come to terms with the fact that I will never know my grandchildren."_

And the last one, Kurt asking the same question. Another distorted voice with vaguely familiar tones replied. Blaine looked confused at the last-minute addition, but to Kurt's relief, did not comment.

" _My mother descended to be with my father. I am eternally grateful for their love, otherwise I would not be alive, but it pained my mother every day of her life. And because of the law, I know that I have grandparents and aunts and uncles and cousins out there that I will never be able to connect with. It has broken my family, and my heart."_

The recordings stopped playing, and many of their classmates dabbed at their eyes.

Blaine straightened up, looking extremely professional and commanding the attention of every person in the room.

"Ladies and gentlemen of the Council, you have heard the testimonies, now hear our proposal for change." Kurt watched, awestruck, as Blaine paced the front of the room with his hands clasped behind his back, charging the air with his raw electricity. "Kurt and I propose an amendment to the current ascent/descent law, removing the clause that refers to an applicant excommunicating from his or her family. Additionally, we propose the repeal of the  Class interactions las. It serves no purpose other than the further unnecessary segregation of the Classes. All citizens should be allowed to interact with each other with no fear of penalty. As one of our interviewees mentioned, she was extremely compatible with someone from a different Class, indicating that income is and should be the only thing separating the Classes. Humor me for a moment. Raise your hand if you or someone in your immediate family has been negatively affected by the Class interaction or ascent/descent law."

Slowly, the hands of every single person on the mock Council raised. Blaine smiled sadly. "As you consider what Kurt and I have presented, think of your personal stories, and the heartbreak you or your loved ones have experienced in the face of these heartless and impersonal laws we currently have in place, as we aim to move forward to a more connected and harmonious future."

The class clapped politely, and slightly dumbstruck by the way Blaine had commanded the floor.

Mr. Brower, looking a little shaky himself, stood and turned to the mock Council.

"All in favor of passing the proposal," He looked out over the Council and smiled despite himself. Ten out of twelve of the randomly selected Council members had their hands up. "Motion passed. Congratulations."

The bell rang then, students scooping up their belongings and heading excitedly for lunch.

"Kurt. Blaine," Mr. Brower called. "Stay behind a minute, would you?"

As they waited for the other students to file out, Kurt slipped his arm around Blaine's waist, squeezing him close and whispering. "You were astounding out there. You made me so proud to be yours," he cooed, nuzzling his nose against Blaine's cheek. Blaine practically purred in response to Kurt's praise.

"Boys," Mr. Brower approached them when the room cleared out. "That was very well put together. I think you are really on to something here."

"As happy as I am that it went over well," said Kurt, "I can't help but to wonder if it would have been received differently in front of the real Council. Think about it. Twelve High Class men versus our mock Council made up of, if random selection is to be believed, an equal amount of Low, Middle, and High Class men and women. The dynamics are completely different, and voting will never be truly fair until the makeup of the real Council changes."

Blaine remained silent.

"That may be true, Kurt, but no matter what Class they are, you appealed to their humanity. I think that is something that doesn't change with how much money a person has."

"Perhaps," Kurt gave in.

"Just consider taking this proposal to the next steps, after you graduate." He looked pointedly at Blaine.

"I think you overestimate how much power I have," Blaine said quietly.

"And I think you underestimate it," Mr. Brower countered. "Just think about it."

The boys nodded, turning to leave hand-in-hand.

When they were safely in the quiet hallway, Kurt turned to Blaine and took his other hand too.

"I know it makes you uncomfortable to talk about things like this, and I stand by the promise I made to you that I would never ask you to use your position to further my own cause. But I do want to ask one thing of you."

"What is it?"

"No matter what you do, please use your influence for good, Blaine. Whatever you think that might mean to you. You're good. Encourage others to be good too."

Blaine smiled, He could do that. And it meant the world to him that Kurt trusted him to determine what was good and what wasn't.

"Okay, this day has been way too heavy, and it's not even noon," Kurt complained. "What do you say to getting out this evening?"

"You've had very few better ideas," Blaine swung Kurt's arms up and around his shoulders and leaned forward.

"Was one of them doing this?" Kurt captured Blaine's lips with his and kissed him slowly.

"Kissing me will always be your best idea."

\---

The evening at the lounge was the perfect way to unwind from the hectic day. It was just as magical for Kurt as it had been the first time, but he felt much more at ease and in his element than he had before. Kurt greeted Mr. Price alongside Blaine, chatted with the other guests, even did a shot with a particularly sweet woman who gushed to him about her belief in the Resistance movement.

As had been the case ever since the night of the dinner dance, everyone spotted and admired the unique rose pinned on Kurt's lapel. Blaine basked proudly in their compliments, happy to show off both the rose and Kurt, who kept a light grasp on his bicep all night.

Though Kurt and Blaine had many offers to join groups of people at their tables, they chose to curl up on one of the short couches together throughout the performance that evening.

Their first date there, the boys had sat comfortably next to each other, casually touching, but tonight, they were a tangle of limbs, nearly impossible for passersby to distinguish whose arms were whose. Kurt thought that live music was infinitely more enjoyable whilst wrapped in Blaine's arms. Blaine would have agreed heartily.

On their way back to Dalton, rather than heading straight back to their room, Kurt and Blaine decided to walk around the grounds for a while, enjoying each other's silent company.

They walked slowly, Blaine leaning his head against Kurt's shoulder. Kurt pressed a kiss to his hair. "I'm so glad you took me to the club. Thank you for sharing your special place with me."

"Mmm," Blaine hummed contentedly. "I would share any part of me with you, Kurt. All you have to do is ask."

Kurt's heart clenched at this. Blaine was so open with him, left himself so vulnerable with every touch and every word, that Kurt only wished he could reciprocate.

Kurt kissed his head again. "I know you would. That means the world to me, Blaine."

"Hey!" Blaine perked up suddenly, looking off into the distance.

"What?" Kurt was alarmed, both hands flying to grab onto Blaine's arms.

"What would you say to a little midnight swim?" Blaine wiggled his eyebrows, indicating to the small lake at the edge of the grounds.

"Are you crazy? It'll be freezing!"

"Kurt." Blaine said plainly, with a hint of humor in his voice. "Its unseasonably warm for the beginning of May. Come on. Live a little." He took off at a run for the water, peeling off his shirt as he went.

Kurt, laughing at Blaine's spontaneity, caught up to him just as he was kicking off his shoes and easing his pants over his hips. Kurt watched amusedly until Blaine's silhouette hooked its thumbs into the waistband of his boxer briefs.

"Oh my god, Blaine! What are you doing?!" The boys had become much more lax about changing in front of each other since their relationship had progressed and become more physical, but they had not been fully nude in front of each other yet. Kurt, for all that he thought about and fantasized about sex with Blaine, became uncharacteristically clumsy and nervous when he thought about it actually happening.

Blaine smirked. "It's called skinny dipping. You really need to get out more." It was just dark enough that Kurt couldn't make out his exact facial features, but was positive that Blaine winked at him. Blaine shimmied out of his underwear then, and plunged into the water.

"Wooo!" Blaine exclaimed, breaking the surface. "Refreshing! It's actually not bad. You should join me." His voice was slightly suggestive.

"I - I'm not - Uh..." Kurt stumbled over his words.

"Oh my. Is the bold, uninhibited Kurt actually nervous about taking off his clothes in front of me?" Blaine jested, but he did so kindly so Kurt didn't feel too pressured.

In a rare moment of pure honesty, Kurt admitted the truth. "Yes, okay? Nobody has ever seen me like that and you...you make me nervous. Shit, that sounds ridiculous, since you also make me the opposite of nervous...oh my god I'm not even making sense."

"But, like, the good kind of nervous?" Blaine asked shyly.

"Like, the very, very good kind of nervous," Kurt smiled shakily.

"Just come in, Kurt. Leave your underwear on for all I care. I'll even turn around while you get in." Blaine dutifully turned his back to Kurt, who took a few deep breaths before making his decision. If Blaine could throw all of his insecurities out the window as he stood before Kurt, then he could too. And he would do it, for Blaine. He stepped out of his clothes, article by article, then slowly sank into the chilly water.

Blaine did not turn around, wanting to respect Kurt's privacy. Kurt took one final deep breath, and exhaled all of his self-consciousness. He waded up behind Blaine, water chest-deep. All at once, Kurt wrapped his arms around the front of Blaine, pressed his body against the back of Blaine's, his half-hard cock settling nicely against the top of Blaine's ass, and he dipped his head to kiss Blaine's shoulder.

Not expecting the contact nor the thrill of it, Blaine threw his head back into Kurt's shoulder and pressed back against Kurt, letting out a high whine. His hands flew frantically upward and back, searching for and eventually finding Kurt's hair to pull at as his breaths came in heavy pants.

It was Blaine's turn to be embarrassed. "I have no idea where that came from," he apologized, covering his face. "That was just so... _unexpected_."

"What have I told you about expectations?" Kurt said into his ear in a low voice. His hands roamed over Blaine's chest, fingernails dragging softly over the slippery skin there.

"Mmmm...something about...water and...blowing…" Blaine could hardly form a coherent sentence.

Kurt laughed throatily. His confidence was back thousandfold. "Only if you're lucky. Can I touch you? _Please_?" His hands stilled on Blaine's chest while he waited for an answer.

He did not have to wait long, as Blaine took his hands and guided them down, down, down, until they reached their destination. Kurt's fingers curled around Blaine's cock and pressed his own into Blaine's backside. They let out simultaneous moans at the feeling of finally touching each other.

Kurt began stroking Blaine, matching each stroke with a shallow thrust of his hips, creating friction between his erection and Blaine's body, and it was pure heaven. He never imagined he would have an experience like this in his life - naked and intimate with someone he cared deeply for and who cared deeply for him. It was a little overwhelming, and he was overcome with a sharp urge to claim Blaine as his own. His lips toyed at the back of Blaine's shoulder, sucking at the skin there in a way that Kurt was sure would leave a mark for the days to cone.

Blaine could not believe this was actually happening to him either. A man was touching him in the most intimate way, and not just any man - Kurt. The beautiful, confident, passionate Kurt who looked past the bad things Blaine had done without hesitation and continued to want him. Blaine's hands, wandering without a purpose, snaked their way around behind both boys and grabbed at Kurt's ass, grinding him harder against his own ass. Unable to take it any longer, his head turned and caught Kurt's lips in a fiery kiss.

Too soon, Blaine's breathing sped up and his hips began pushing into Kurt's hand more frantically, and Kurt realized it was almost over. His free hand was wrapped around Blaine's chest protectively, and a little possessively, fingernails digging in to make small, half-moon indentations that would match the ones Blaine was surely leaving on his buttocks. Kurt was grinding his teeth to try to stop himself from coming too quickly too, but it was near impossible. The feeling of Blaine so close in so many ways was _so nice._ He groaned against Blaine's lips.

"Oh - Oh my god, Kurt. I'm gonna come," Blaine called out in a strangled voice just seconds before hitting his climax. Kurt stroked him through his orgasm, low whines escaping his lips as he grinded into Blaine twice more before reaching his own release. The water lapped against their joined bodies, helping to bring them down slowly from the euphoria they had just experienced for the first time.

Blaine spun around in Kurt's arms, hands finally able to explore the hard planes and soft dips of Kurt's body. Kurt kissed him slowly and sensually.

"You're so perfect and beautiful and wow, that was perfect and beautiful, and...oh yeah. What were you nervous about, again?" Blaine muttered against his lips.

"I don't fucking know." Kurt wrapped Blaine's legs around his waist, hoisting him up and clasping his arms underneath Blaine's rear. He was so thankful to Blaine for being someone - the only one - he could let see him stripped down and raw like this, and he wished he could tell him, but he wasn't sure he could find the words.

"I'm sorry I left a hickey on your shoulder," Kurt burrowed his face in Blaine's neck in embarrassment.

"It's okay. I kind of liked it. I'm sorry I was...done so quickly," It was Blaine's turn to hide his face in Kurt.

"It's okay. I kind of liked it," Kurt smirked, repeating Blaine's words.

"I'll do better next time," Blaine started nipping at Kurt's ear.

"So there will be a next time?" Kurt's voice was strained because Blaine's lips were causing the fire to reignite in his belly.

"There will be lots of next times," Blaine murmured in his ear, licking down Kurt's neck to suck at his pulse point.

Kurt growled. "If you keep doing that, next time is going to be right now."

Suddenly, Blaine felt off balance, as Kurt threw himself backward, dunking both of them underwater. Coming up, Blaine shrieked, determined to get his revenge. The water war carried on until both Kurt and Blaine were shivering and tired, but neither wanted the night to end.

Late, late that night, the boys drifted off to sleep, wrapped up peacefully in each other, forgetting all of their worries and cares just for one night, and wondering if this is what love felt like.


	10. Chapter 10

  
"Have you seen the news today?"

"Did you hear?"

"Do you think it could really happen?"

The entire population of Dalton Academy was abuzz with the latest news story: An initial draft of a new bill being presented to the Council for preliminary approval that would ban protests, activities, and conversations in support of the Resistance.

Having lived his whole life around politics, Blaine knew that a bill - preliminary or not - would not even be proposed if it did not have a strong foothold with the voters. And he knew that almost every single person on the Council, his father included, was terrified of the Resistance and what it could mean. So upon hearing the news this morning while dressing for the day, Blaine felt more certain that the bill would happen than his classmates, and angrier than he thought he could be. He never thought his father could be heartless enough to deny basic rights like free speech.

If his own reaction wasn't surprising enough, Kurt's was infinitely more shocking. He was subdued and quiet all morning, and it felt wrong to Blaine. Kurt was supposed to be outraged, shouting about the injustice of it at the top of his lungs, standing on tables and rallying his peers behind him, organizing marches and demonstrations. But he had hardly said a single word all morning, and it was making Blaine extremely uncomfortable. Every time he opened his mouth to try to ask about it, though, Kurt busied himself with some task or other, and Blaine cut himself off.

Even Renna, Kurt's partner in crime when it came to the Resistance, couldn't get him to talk. She nearly persuaded Kurt into a rant over breakfast, but even with her provoking comments dangling right in front of him, Kurt bit his tongue and nodded calmly in agreement with Renna's criticisms of the bill.

Blaine, growing more deeply concerned with each of Kurt's missed opportunities to rant about the news, reached for Kurt's hand under the breakfast table to see if physical touch could get through to him where spoken words were failing.

The bone-crushing pressure of Kurt's returning grasp told Blaine he was right to be worried.

Blaine usually walked Kurt to his English class before going to calculus, but today, he led Kurt down to the bottom floor of the east corridor, to their special place. Completely lost inside his thoughts, Kurt did not notice they had broken their normal routine until Blaine shut the door behind them. He took Kurt's school bag from over his shoulder to set it down on the ground, careful not to touch the gold-dipped rose that he had presented Kurt with that morning, as he now did every morning.

"What are we doing?" Kurt asked, looking around as if just realizing that he was not in his English class.

"We're ditching."

"Why?"

"We're going to sit here until you can have an appropriate response to the news." Blaine plopped him down on the couch and sat next to him.

"I don't know what you're talking about," said Kurt through gritted teeth, looking straight ahead.

Blaine slapped his knees in frustration. "Damn it, Kurt. Look at me!" He shouted, shocking Kurt into looking directly at him. Blaine lowered his voice, and took Kurt's hands. "What is going on with you? You should be gathering up hordes of students with torches and pitchforks right now. Aren't you angry?"

Kurt squeezed Blaine's hands and dropped his head forward in defeat. Then he looked up again with a fire in his eyes. "Angry? _Angry_? I'm literally _seething_ with rage. I feel like my brain might actually explode. I don't even have the words to explain how horrible and unfair this all is. But I can't say anything, Blaine, because it's your fucking  _father_ , and no matter how outdated and prejudiced his views may be, you love him. So I'm keeping my mouth shut, because I like you and I respect you and I don't want to offend you, and I'm putting my temper aside for the moment so that you don't feel attacked. So don't push me, or you might regret it." _I'm_ _doing_ _this_ _all_ _because_ _I_ _might_ _be_ _in_ _love_ _with_ _you_ , _can't_ _you_ _see_ _that_?! He wanted to add. But there was no way he was letting that slip. Without another word, Kurt got up and walked out of the room.

 _Wow_. Kurt was doing this for him? The reverence with which he had said "I like you and I respect you" was hard to ignore and it blew Blaine away. This must have meant something huge for Kurt, because he despised the Chancellor and all that he stood for. To be able to separate him from Blaine in this situation was a big deal.

Blaine stood and went, in a daze, to his first class of the day. Thankfully, the teacher hardly noticed when he walked in late. He regretted coming to class at all, though, since he wasn't processing anything he heard, focused solely on his thoughts of Kurt.

Kurt never held himself back when it came to matters like this. Did he really care that much for him? Blaine knew how he felt about Kurt. He loved him. How could he not? But Kurt wouldn't return the feeling. He couldn't. Nobody loved Blaine. Not enough, anyway. The pains Kurt was going through to keep him happy made Blaine's heart pitter-patter, but Kurt should _not_ have to do this. One of the things Blaine liked most about him was his unabashed forwardness and willingness to speak his mind. He would hate to see that suppressed just because his father was leading the charge on this new bill.

Blaine turned these thoughts over again and again in his mind through his first two classes. By the time he reached Class Studies, the sight of Kurt made him simultaneously nauseated and ecstatic. How was he going to show Kurt that he didn't need to hold back in front of him? Without conscious decision, the answer fell right into Blaine's lap - And he didn't even realize he was doing it.

\---

Kurt's body actually ached with his need to let out his feelings about the news as he slid into his seat in Class Studies. A few seconds later, Blaine sat down next to him and gave him a small smile, but Kurt could tell he was millions of miles away in his head. He let him be, falling into his own thoughts. Kurt knew that holding back was the right thing to do with Blaine right now. Blaine was new to all of this, and things were just starting to get really good between the two of them. How could he scare Blaine off right now, before he even had the chance to see just how good things would get? Besides, if he was still this worked up later today, he had plans to hunt Renna down so they could lock themselves in a room and shout about it for an hour or so. Yeah, that's exactly what he needed to calm his frayed nerves right now. He sighed and relaxed slightly just thinking about it. This was the first time in years Kurt had stopped himself from speaking his mind about political matters, and even though it hurt, it didn't feel wrong, necessarily. Blaine knew how Kurt felt about the issue at hand; he didn't need Kurt to throw it in his face and insult his family. He tried to tear himself away from his thoughts as Mr. Brower stood before the class.

"Before we begin," the instructor paced between his desk and the front row of students. "I would like to take a few minutes to talk about the draft bill in front of the Council right now. For those of you who haven't heard yet, there is a proposal that, if passed, would make speaking or acting in favor of the Resistance illegal. There are no details on what the punishment would be yet, but this bill has huge implications for the future. I would like to open up the floor to you for a discussion." Mr. Brower waved his hand toward the class, offering for them to begin speaking.

"It's a great idea. What is there to discuss?" One girl asked.

Kurt channeled all of his energy into balling his fists, forcing himself not to give in to his natural instinct to start shouting in defense of his position. To his surprise, Blaine was the one to respond.

"What is there to discuss? The right of the Council to take away citizens' freedoms, for one." Everyone head in the room turned to look at Blaine as he spoke. His voice was as steady as Kurt had ever heard it, and the only sign that Blaine wasn't as confident as he looked was the little nervous glance he threw in Kurt's direction after he finished speaking.

"Maybe these people don't deserve freedom," another student added. "It's a bunch of whiny Low Class citizens who think they have the right to be more than they were born to be."

Kurt resisted the urge to throw a desk at her, telling himself that it would not be a productive move.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Blaine held up his hands, and Kurt marveled at how level he sounded. Kurt was about to lose his shit just listening to the debate. He couldn't imagine how he would react if he was the one responding. Blaine turned his body to face the class. "First of all, I would like to remind you that Class separation affects all three Classes, and that while the Resistance may be concentrated in the Low and Middle Class, there are many High Class citizens who support, and even spearhead the efforts. So this isn't just about one particular Class 'whining,' as you so eloquently put it."

"What do you care, anyway?" A boy on the other side of Kurt asked. "We all know who you are-"

"This," Blaine rose out of his chair, cutting the boy off. The mood in the room shifted noticeably. "Has absolutely nothing to do with who I am, and everything to do with basic human rights. As you may recall, this country was built on the premise that all men are created equal. All means all. Every single person in this room - in this country," he amended. "- is awarded the freedom to say what they want, and to assemble peacefully. This bill would challenge all of that."

"Those freedoms only exist if nobody is being hurt."

"Is anyone being hurt by these silent protests and conversations about the Resistance?"

"Maybe not right now, but it could lead to a revolution."

Kurt watched Blaine carefully, knowing that he could never say the words. So Kurt did instead.

"Maybe a revolution isn't a bad thing." Kurt's voice was quiet.

"That's a very serious thing to say, Kurt," Mr. Brower told him.

"We wouldn't even be talking about these freedoms if it weren't for the most famous revolution in our history." Kurt was astonished by his own level tone and rational head.

"How could a bunch of dirty Low Classers overthrow the government anyway? They're at the bottom of the food chain, where they belong, and that will never change."

Goodbye, rational. Kurt and Blaine were both on their feet, interjecting into each other's rants, flowing perfectly.

"Wow. First of all, that is extremely offensive to about a third of the people in this room, you ignorant a-"

"Nobody is born to be any less than anyone else, and if you think that, you're the prob-"

"-your life would be in shambles if it weren't for the Low Class. They do jobs that you don't even deserve for them to do for you. You're just an ungrateful b-"

"The Resistance may not be as evil as it is made out to be. If something is met with resistance, I'm inclined to believe that it is so done with good reason."

"You elitist little fu-"

"KURT!" Mr. Brower cut him off.

Okay, so maybe Blaine was a little more tactful in his response.

"I thought you, of all people, would be against this, Blaine," another classmate said with disdain.

"Well it appears that you thought wrong. Now if you'll excuse me, I cannot be in here a second longer with you closed-minded people." Blaine scooped up his bookbag and stormed out, holding his hand out for Kurt, but not looking back to see if he was following.

Momentarily shocked, Kurt had to play catch-up, reaching Blaine's hand just before he left the classroom, slamming the door behind him.

Blaine still did not look at him, but led him, hand-in-hand, up to their room.

Blaine's blood was singing in his veins. He felt like electricity was running through him. He had felt so alive and powerful and on top of that, had just inadvertently provided Kurt with the perfect opportunity to speak his mind after holding it in all day. He looked at Kurt expectantly as the door closed, shutting them in their room. When Kurt didn't speak, his brilliant blue-green eyes searching deep into Blaine's soul, Blaine took over.

"Yes, Kurt. I'm on your side. Screw who my parents are. Please don't hold back anymore. Go ahead and say everything you've wanted to say all day."

Kurt hesitated for a split second, then surged forward, taking Blaine's lips captive with all of the passion he could muster. His hands instantly found Blaine's waist, pulling him closer and causing them both to fall sideways onto Blaine's bed.

"Ahh, that's not what I - ahh!" Blaine surrendered to the lips that were ravaging his neck and the hands that were pressed warm and soft against his lower back. He arched his back, pushing himself into Kurt's body in response to Kurt sucking on his earlobe. Kurt slowly and mischievously undid each button on Blaine's shirt, kissing each inch of bare skin as soon as it was revealed.

Blaine felt like Kurt was worshiping his body, and felt a rush of affection for the other boy.

Soon, Blaine's shirt lay open to display his chest, and he was certain that Kurt could see his heart beating erratically against his rib cage. But Kurt was too occupied to notice much else than his mouth doing unspeakable things to the skin below Blaine's belly button. Blaine thought he might explode from the pleasure of it; the moans and whimpers he was letting out were uncontrollable. He would have been embarrassed about it had it been anyone but Kurt causing him the deeply satisfying feeling. Kurt lifted his head, and Blaine felt the rush of cool air across his abdomen where it was wet from Kurt's tongue. Kurt seemed to be asking permission, and Blaine gave it willingly.

"Yes, please. Kurt, _please_ …" He trailed off, consumed in a swirl of pleasure, because Kurt's fingers were undoing the button and zipper on his pants, the other hand lightly stroking him through the fabric of his clothes. Blaine's hips bucked up involuntarily, seeking the friction Kurt's hand would provide. Kurt tugged at Blaine's pants and boxer briefs, pulling them down Blaine's thighs with slight difficulty, as Blaine thrashed beneath him.

Seeing Blaine like this, so much of his beautiful body, was unbelievable for Kurt. Sure, they had been completely devoid of clothing and pressed up against each other that night in the lake, but here in the daylight, with the heavy emotions of the day weighing on them, it felt different. It felt more. He took his time kissing and nipping down from Blaine's belly button to the base of his cock, hands holding Blaine's wild hips down gently and nuzzling his nose in the soft hair there. Without warning, Kurt licked up to the tip of Blaine's thick cock, and enveloped the head in his mouth, sucking lightly. _Fuck_ , he tasted as good as he looked.

Blaine's hands reached for Kurt's hair, but paused before touching it, knowing how Kurt felt about his perfect 'do. He felt the rumble of laughter come from below his waist and looked down to see Kurt smiling. He pulled off, saying "It's okay. You can touch my hair."

With permission granted, Blaine's fingers twisted in Kurt's hair as he went back down to finish the job he had started.

Blaine's moans were unbearably sexy, and Kurt was the hardest he thought he had ever been in his life. He could come just from sucking off Blaine, and at this rate, he wouldn't have to wait long for it to happen. What they were doing, combined with the emotional rollercoaster he had been on today was seriously overwhelming for Kurt, and as he paused his actions to appreciate Blaine's insanely gorgeous body, he couldn't help the hushed, fervent words that fell out of his mouth.

"I love you."

 _Oh dear god. Fuck shit fuck._ Kurt pulled back immediately

Blaine's hands immediately flew to cover his face, and he dissolved into tears. No, not just tears. Sobs.

Kurt jerked back and sat on his heels, careful not to touch Blaine. "I'm so - I didn't - sorry," he finished lamely. Blaine, body shaking with sobs, wouldn't take his hands away from his face to even look at Kurt, so Kurt retreated from the bed, and shut himself in the only place he could think of under such pressure - the bathroom.

\---

Blaine tore his hands away from his eyes as soon as he felt the bed creak beneath him, but Kurt was already closing himself in the bathroom. He looked down at himself through teary eyes, feeling exposed and despicable. He pulled his pants back up and closed the buttons on his shirt hastily.

He had not meant to start crying, and definitely had not meant to start sobbing like a baby, but Kurt's words had caught him so off guard. He knew deep down that his family and Renna and Sylvie loved him, but nobody had told Blaine "I love you" in as long as he could remember. Self-deprecating, Blaine thought there was no way that Kurt meant what he said, as evidenced by his freakout and running away

Half of Blaine's brain tried to rationalize why Kurt could love him, while the other half searched for reasons why it could never be true. The second half won out. Blaine, curled up in a ball with his head resting against his pillow, dug his fingers into his own arms, squeezing his eyes shut. He imagined Kurt on the other side of the bathroom door, cursing himself for letting his lust take over and letting those words escape his lips. He imagined Kurt listening to his sobs and thinking how much he regretted getting into a relationship with someone so pitiful. He imagined Kurt listening and waiting for when Blaine left the room so that he could escape without having to see him. Blaine held himself tight, gasping for air and trying to calm the tears.

\---

Blaine's imagination was wrong.

Kurt was cursing himself for letting himself get in so deep with Blaine, so deep that he couldn't control the words he said. He was listening to Blaine's sobs and thinking how heartbreaking it was that Blaine could never return the love he felt for the boy. He was listening and waiting for Blaine to leave the room so that Blaine wouldn't see the mess of a man he was right now.

Kurt splashed cold water on his face, trying to pull himself out of the spiral he was in.

He waited and waited to hear Blaine leave. He had to eat or go to the bathroom at some point, didn't he? But Blaine didn't get up, and the sobs didn't subside.

On the cold tile, leaning up against the side of the bathtub, Kurt didn't think he could take one more minute of listening to Blaine's cries. Thankfully, at that moment, Blaine's sniffles and footsteps approached the door.

"Kurt?" He called softly through the barrier. When Kurt didn't respond, he continued anyway. "I hope you're n-not angry with m-m-me."

_What? Why the fuck would I be angry with him?_

"I'm sorry I had such a s-strong reaction to you saying...that. Please d-don't be upset. I know that you didn't mean it." Blaine's voice and spirit were broken.

_Didn't mean it? What is he on about?_

"I understand that you were riding the high of our debate in Class Studies, and it's easy to lose yourself in the moment when you're being...intimate l-l-like that."

 _Oh_. It all made sense now. Blaine thought Kurt retreated because he hadn't meant what he said. Shit. He needed to fix this. To fix Blaine's heart.

"We can go b-back to the way things were and pretend it never happened."

Kurt was on his feet, pulling the door open and taking Blaine into his arms in seconds.

"No, no, no, no," he whispered, cradling Blaine's head. The two of them crumpled to the hard ground, holding each other for dear life.

Kurt looked into Blaine's bloodshot eyes. "I don't want to take it back. I meant it."

Blaine's eyes were wide.

"But...nobody has told me they love me for years. You can't. I'm not - you can't."

"I can and I do. Anyway, what do you mean years? Don't your parents love you?"

Blaine shook his head, sobs calming a little now that he was safe in Kurt's arms. "I know they love me. They have to, they're my parents. But no, they don't say it. I don't actually remember them ever saying it. They refuse to feed into my 'overactive emotions,' because they think it makes me weaker."

"That's not fair, Blaine. Everybody needs to hear those words." Kurt held on tighter as Blaine shook in his embrace.

"They don't even write to me," he whispered, curling in on himself again. "Their assistant writes letters for them."

"Jesus. Well, maybe you don't deserve them. You deserve to be told that you are loved. I said it and I meant it. I freaked out because I didn't intend to say it so soon, and I wanted to be sure you felt the same before I did."

Blaine looked confused. "Of course I do."

"Do what?" Kurt looked equally confused.

"Love you," stated Blaine obviously.

"What?" Kurt gasped. His heart melted with the words. His hand made its way to cup Blaine's face and he planted a soft kiss against his lips.

"Why do you sound so surprised?" Blaine sighed into him.

"You're not the only one with insecurities, you know." Kurt smirked before kissing Blaine again.

"Man, we really need to learn to communicate better," Blaine mused, running his fingers through Kurt's hair that was standing at all sorts of odd angles now.

"I can think of the perfect place to start," Kurt suggested.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." He kissed Blaine's forehead lightly. "I love you."

Blaine smiled happily, leaning against Kurt. "I love you too."

\---

That evening, Blaine was called down to the Dean's office.

It was not his first time in the room, but it amused Blaine each time just the same. He was quite familiar with people in positions of power overcompensating in their choice of decor. He knew the massive desk and throne-like chair were for show. Dean Misner was a truly soft guy.

"Hello, Blaine. I'm sure you're wondering why I called you here so late in the evening," he began as Blaine sat down. "I just received a call from your father."

Blaine's pulse raced. His father would never personally make a call anyone unless it was extremely serious.

"What happened? Is my mom okay?"

The Dean smiled reassuringly. "Nothing like that. He heard that there is some...undesired Resistance happening in the Academies. He would like to pay a visit to Dalton in a few days to see for himself."

Blaine swallowed audibly. He was so screwed.

The Dean dropped his facade of professionalism and leaned forward in earnest.

"I have it on good authority that you support the cause." Blaine looked confused, but nodded slightly. "You know as well as I do that many of the students and staff here at Dalton do as well. For the safety of everyone here, it is imperative that the Chancellor not catch wind of how strong the Resistance is at this school. Understood?"

Oh, he understood.

\---

Elsewhere in the school, a small group of students gathered around tables with scissors and paint at hand to craft delicate paper flowers. Not just any flower, though, a very specific, very significant flower. Red roses painted with gold.


	11. Chapter 11

  
Blaine did not tell Kurt about the Chancellor's visit right away. His father was due to arrive Monday, which was still two days away, and anyway, there was no way he was going to put a damper on the weekend (his favorite time to spend with Kurt), or the blissfully happy mood Kurt had been in since their confessions of love for each other. Add to that the fact that Blaine had no clue what he was going to say to Kurt about it, since he wasn't sure how he could make Kurt understand...yeah, he was going to to put it off for a while.

Saturday morning dawned, and like usual, Kurt awoke before Blaine, once again finding himself pinned down by Blaine's sleeping body. Blaine's right arm and leg were thrown over him, and Blaine's cheek rested on his chest. Kurt smiled, in love with waking up every morning like this. He had always thought he would finish out his time at Dalton alone, and though it had been painstaking to get to this point with Blaine and though their future was uncertain (if not nonexistent), he was truly happy to have found someone to share it with.

Kurt watched the rise and fall of Blaine's back as he slept, appreciating the ever-steady life force of the ever-steady man he had let in little by little until he woke up one day and came to the realization that Blaine had infiltrated every aspect of his being.

Kurt shifted his gaze to the blanket that had been kicked down and was bunched up at their feet, then his eyes trailed up Blaine's body very slowly. They started at his calves, which were intertwined with Kurt's, the golden tone of Blaine's skin against his pale white flesh a beautiful contrast. The two of them were perfect opposites, made to complement each other. His eyes traveled over Blaine's knees, higher up, watching as Blaine's powerful thighs disappeared under the Dalton boxers that were a size too large for him. The shorts stretched gently over the swell of Blaine's perfect ass and rode low on his hips, displaying the dimples on his lower back. Kurt raked his eyes over Blaine's strong back, and the muscular shoulders that he loved so much, up to the pile of soft, dark curls atop his head, and finally across his heavenly arms to the deft hands and fingers that had the ability to turn Kurt into a puddle of goo with just one touch.

Kurt absentmindedly ran his fingernails up and down Blaine's back as he examined Blaine's perfect physique, eliciting a shiver from the other boy, who cuddled in closer.

"Mornin'," Blaine mumbled sleepily.

"Good morning, cuddlebug," Kurt teased. He felt Blaine tense and pull his arm and leg off of him, rolling slightly away. "Where are you going?" Kurt protested, confused.

Blaine frowned and yawned at the same time. "I'm trying to give you your personal space. My mother and father have always told me that I'm too clingy and touchy-feely." Kurt's heart broke as he imagined little boy Blaine not receiving the touch and affection he deserved. Blaine ran his fingers through his hair anxiously. "Ugh. It's way too early in the morning for stuff like this. I'm sorry that I'm always touching you in some way, it's just...I just crave it, I guess. But I know you're not necessarily a physical contact kind of guy, so I'm doing my best." Blaine tried to smile for Kurt, but Kurt could see the struggle behind it.

"Hey," Kurt rolled over to drape his limbs over Blaine, assuming the same position Blaine had been in the minute prior. He nuzzled his nose into Blaine's chest. "First of all, if there is something you feel like you need from me, always ask me for it. Secondly, you may be right that I am not normally big on physical contact. But with you…" he thought for a moment. "You've done something to me. I'm addicted to your touch, Blaine."

Blaine's arms tightened around Kurt's waist and he hid his face-splitting grin, relieved that Kurt craved the contact as much as he did.

Kurt lifted his head and kissed Blaine square on the lips. "Want to go to a party with me tonight?" He asked out of the blue.

Blaine looked mildly surprised. "I thought you were vehemently opposed to classy Dalton parties."

"This is far from a classy Dalton party. This is like...a seedy-underbelly-of-Dalton party."

Blaine ran a hand down the center of Kurt's chest, causing him to hum with pleasure. "I didn't peg you as a seedy underbelly type of guy."

Kurt laughed. "It's true. I'm not. I've been invited to these parties for years, but have never gone. I've never had a reason to want to."

"And now that reason is..?"

"School is almost over. I want to get drunk and dance with my smokin' hot date at an illegal party at least one before we leave here."

Blaine smirked. "How pure. Well I don't dance, but I want to watch _my_ smokin' hot date get drunk and dance at an illegal party at least once before we leave here."

"Sounds perfect," Kurt wrapped himself tighter around Blaine. "But first, cuddles!"

Blaine reciprocated the hold. "Just when I think it's not possible, I love you more and more every day," he told Kurt, kissing the top of his head.

"I do too. I love you so much more than I should." Kurt sounded sad.

"What do you mean by that?" Blaine questioned.

Kurt just shrugged in response.

Blaine kissed him again, used to the secrecy by now. "Someday you'll tell me all of your secrets, mystery man."

Kurt cringed. "Yeah...Someday."

\---

Shortly after curfew that evening, Kurt and Blaine tiptoed out of their room and down the hall to the area of the dorms with larger suites. Kurt did not envy the people who lived in these rooms, for they shared a living space with five other students. Their rooms were connected to a large study space, though, perfect for throwing parties.

Blaine held tightly onto Kurt's hand as they approached the door through which they could hear the booming bass of the party music. Kurt lifted his free hand and knocked the secret code he had been given: three quick raps and two slow.

The door swung open and they slipped quickly inside.

The room was full of sweaty people drinking, dancing, standing in small circles talking, or sneaking off to one of the connected bedrooms.

Kurt spotted Leo, one of the residents of the suite (and therefore host of the party), who had always been friendly to him despite Kurt's cold, shut down exterior, and intended to go say hello, but Blaine was stopped every few feet by someone wanting to introduce themselves or chat about something. Kurt rolled his eyes, knowing that Blaine found it tedious to keep up with so many people who had no personal interest in him and just wanted to make a connection with the Chancellor's son, but he couldn't help but to find it remarkable to watch Blaine work the room. The man was incredible, greeting, asking people about things they had once brought up to him and touching them deeply by remembering. He made jokes and threw around compliments, and soon there were crowds of people around him, vying for his attention. They had not been there five minutes when drinks were thrust into Kurt and Blaine's hands by a smiling Leo, who had made his way over to them.

Leo leaned in close to Kurt's ear and said in a low voice, "I assume he's cool?"

Kurt realized he was talking about Blaine and responded, "I wouldn't have brought him here if he wasn't." He wondered if it ever got old for Blaine, the skepticism about his intentions, the people tiptoeing around him.

Kurt sat and sipped his drink and listened to the conversation Blaine was having, attempting to look interested, but failing. His eyes kept darting around the room, watching the couples and groups dancing, some acceptably, but many pulling explicit moves on dates and strangers alike. Kurt's muscles twitched with the longing to get out there and dance as well, spurred on with a little encouragement from the drink in his hand.

Kurt squeezed Blaine's bicep lightly to let him know with a look that he was going to leave Blaine to his devices and head across the room to greet Renna, who had just arrived. Blaine nodded and kissed Kurt on the cheek before he went, prompting a whole slew of questions from his admirers about his relationship status, which he deflected easily.

"Renna!" Kurt greeted cheerfully, hugging her tightly, which was quite out of character for him.

She laughed and asked him jokingly how much he had had to drink already. He peeked down into his cup and realized it was empty.

"Better get another!" He lifted his drink in the air with a little shimmy of his shoulders and began to head for the makeshift bar when something on Renna's shirt caught his eye. Pinned to the front of her shirt was a paper version of the gold-dipped rose that adorned his own blazer on a daily basis. He looked to her roommate, who also had a paper rose pinned to her shirt.

"What is this?" He reached out for it and gently took its petals between his fingers, analyzing the delicate craft.

To his surprise, Renna blushed and smiled sheepishly.

"Oh, um...I made them with a few friends. You're such a strong voice for the Resistance, and it's your signature piece. I thought it would be a good way to stand in solidarity with you and the movement. But I know the roses are something special between you and Blaine, so if you think it's too intrusive on something private you two share, I can-"

"No!" Kurt grabbed her shoulders, eyes wide. "No, it's a beautiful idea, Renna. And extremely flattering. God, you're a genius!" He pulled her in for another hug, careful not to crush the flower.

"Are you sure you need a refill?" She raised an eyebrow at the tipsy boy hugging her.

"Yes, and so do you, because we're dancing!" He sang the last word.

With full drinks in hand, Kurt, Renna, and her roommate Ashlyn were on the "dance floor" (a carpeted space that had been cleared of furniture), jumping around like lunatics.

"You're really fun when you're drunk!" Renna shouted over the music.

And it was true. Kurt was having a great time, but wished Blaine was dancing with him. He kept shooting Blaine looks, trying to mimic his puppy dog eyes and silently asking him to join them, but Blaine just kept winking and nodding to Kurt to have a good time. Kurt knew Blaine was not a fan of dancing - he considered himself horrible at it and an embarrassment to his reputation. Kurt was sure he would disagree, and wanted so badly to find out for himself.

If Blaine refused to come out and dance of his own accord, Kurt supposed he would just have to make himself look irresistible, then. When Blaine's attention was turned back to the small group of people he was chatting with, Kurt undid two buttons on his shirt, exposing his neck and upper chest. He knew the sweat gathering there would look enticing. When Blaine turned back to look at him, Kurt bit his lip and swiveled his hips sexily in time to the music. He danced up behind Renna and began rolling his body against hers rhythmically, never taking his seductive gaze off of Blaine. Renna let out a thrilled giggle and hooked her hands around behind Kurt's neck as they rubbed against each other.

Kurt would never forget the look on Blaine's face - the darkness of lust clouding his eyes, the envious twitch of his jaw, the teeth on his bottom lip revealing his desire to take Renna's place. But Blaine just continued to watch, happy not to make a fool out of himself in front of his classmates.

Blaine was dying inside, though, watching the way Kurt moved, seeing the sheen of sweat covering his smooth chest, the tipsy little smirk he wore to try to urge Blaine to come and play. Kurt was too sexy for his own good, and he knew exactly what he was doing. Blaine just sighed and watched Kurt dance with Renna and Ashlyn, knowing this was a safe outlet for him, and a fun way for him to tease. If Kurt hadn't been drinking, Blaine would absolutely be tearing his clothes off when they got back to their room that night.

But then, a boy Blaine didn't recognize, a boy who was handsome as hell and clearly out-of-his-mind-drink, danced up to Kurt, hooked his fingers in Kurt's belt loops, and began grinding up on him.

Kurt looked shocked for a minute before turning the man with a look over his shoulder at Blaine that said "What are you going to do about it?"

Oh, hell no. Nobody else touched Kurt like that. Blaine excused himself from the conversation and laughed at himself on his way over to Kurt. He couldn't believe he was _that guy_ who was stomping out onto the dance floor to claim back his boy. Kurt had definitely won at this little game he was playing. But even though Kurt was dancing with another guy to try to make Blaine jealous, he was not minimizing his and Blaine's relationship. Though the drunk guy kept trying to push closer to Kurt, Kurt kept a respectful distance between the two of them, and kept his eyes on Blaine the entire time, letting him know exactly who his mind was on. It was because of this harmless playfulness that Blaine sat back and allowed the game to go on for a minute longer, enjoying the show Kurt was putting on.

When Kurt had finally had enough, he leaned forward to whisper in the guy's ear. Blaine watched as the man's eyes grew comically wide, pushed himself away from Kurt, and came over to Blaine, wringing his hands and apologizing.

"I'm so sorry, man. I had no idea he was here with you. I didn't mean anything by it. Please man, I'm so sorry."

Blaine smiled. "It's okay. You couldn't have known. It's not like he's wearing my flower or anything."

"Shit. Dude, I'm an idiot." The man babbled on.

Blaine patted him on the shoulder, assured him once again that it was all right, and left him to his rambling. Blaine approached Kurt, who was swaying to the music, his third drink sloshing around in its cup.

"Blaine! My cuddlebug!" Kurt cried, crushing Blaine into a hug. "I had to dance with some sweaty guy just to get you to come out here with me. Am I that bad of a dancer?" Kurt stuck his lip out, pouting.

Blaine kept his hands around Kurt's waist. "Not at all, beautiful. You look amazing out here. You know that I don't dance. I just couldn't stand seeing that guy all over you like that."

Kurt kissed his nose. "I'm sorry I let him touch me. But you know I would never let him _touch me_ touch me, don't you? Even to make you jealous. Because I love you and only you. You're all I want."

Blaine kissed him softly. "I do know that. And your wish is my command. Now that you have me, what do you want to do with me? Dance? Kiss? Take me to bed and cuddle me?"

Kurt was leaning all of his weight on Blaine since the room was spinning a little.

"I can think of better things I can do with you in bed."

"Not tonight, babe. Save that thought for another time when you're not drunk."

"Okay, okay, chivalrous Blaine Cuddlebug always doing the virtuous thing…"

Blaine laughed at the resigned, yet loving tone to Kurt's voice. Renna, still dancing nearby, grinned at the overheard conversation. She blew Blaine a kiss, which he returned with some difficulty, as he was holding Kurt up at the moment.

"Anything else you'd like instead?" Blaine prompted, his heartbeat quickening as Kurt nuzzled his head in the crook between his neck and his shoulder.

"Mmhmmm," Kurt mumbled.

"What is it?"

"Play for me."

So Blaine swept Kurt downstairs to the piano and played until his notes lulled the drowsy drunk boy into dreamland.

\---

Sunday was a lazy day well-spent in bed. Blaine snuck Kurt a tray of food from the cafeteria with assistance from his friend in the kitchen. The spread was completed with a vase with one fresh long-stemmed rose dipped in gold.

The boys talked, laughed, cuddled, explored each other's bodies, read books, explored each other's bodies some more, and in the afternoon, when Renna knocked on their door, they scrambled to make themselves presentable for a movie marathon with her.

The Chancellor's visit never strayed far from the forefront of Blaine's mind, but he still could not work out what to say, and he never found a time to bring it up. Not when Renna left and Blaine snuck back into the kitchen to get some more snacks, not when Kurt read peacefully by the window, not when they held each other in bed, and not when his nightmares ripped him from his slumber in a panic and he retreated to his piano, only to find Kurt shortly behind him bringing with him a sense of peace and comfort and home.

It was only on the morning of his father's visit, when he was fresh out of the shower, that Blaine knew it couldn't wait any longer.

Blaine was wearing the third identical shirt he had tried on this morning, and was attempting to hook the buttons correctly for the fourth time.

"Blaine. What's going on with you? You've been kind of jumpy and weird since Friday." Kurt sat down on his bed and watched Blaine button his shirt.

"My father is coming to Dalton today," he blurted out, throwing his hands down in defeat.

"What?" Kurt was stunned. That was not what he had been expecting.

Blaine settled down next to Kurt. "He wants to come see if any of the students here are acting in accordance with the Resistance. He wants to see if there is any reason to intervene."

Realization struck. "Looking for more reason to pass his law, no doubt," Kurt grumbled, narrowing his eyes.

"Exactly!" Blaine gripped Kurt's knee in extreme relief. "I knew you would understand. So you agree to stay quiet and on your best behavior today when he's here?"

A deadly silence fell across the room. Kurt looked at him in disbelief and Blaine knew he had messed up. " _My best behavior?_ What do you think I am, a toddler?"

"No, of course n-"

"This is the perfect chance for us to make a move, to stand up to him! I will not sit quietly and let this opportunity pass by!" Kurt was on his feet now, as if he were in the midst of a debate in Class Studies, and Blaine felt helpless. "You have no right to treat me like I can't handle myself and make my own decisions."

"But you can't - you don't-" He struggled to find the words, but Kurt cut him off anyway.

"I can do whatever I want. I am an adult, Blaine. This is important to me."

"More important than I am?" Blaine rose to stand in front of Kurt. "You would put the Resistance before me? Before my safety? Your own safety? You told me that if I ever needed anything, I should always ask you for it. I'm asking you to please, please hold it in for just this one day, Kurt. Trust me on this. I can't believe you wouldn't do that for me."

Kurt glared at him. "I have been completely transparent about this from day one, Blaine. The Resistance is my top priority. It will always come first. Before my schoolwork, before myself, and yes, Blaine, before you. I haven't exactly been keeping that a secret."

Blaine's hands were clenching and unclenching at his sides, and he looked desperate. "I know that, I guess, I just thought…" He trailed off.

"Why are you so afraid of this?" Kurt looked at Blaine, whose head was down, looking at his bare feet, and a horrific reality struck him. He took a step backward and his hand lifted to cover his mouth in shock. "Oh my god. You're afraid of what he will think of you, aren't you? You're ashamed of me."

Blaine's head snapped up, panic clearly etched in his features. "That's not-"

"You know what? Let's make this easy on you. Maybe we should pretend we're not in love. Or even that we don't know each other at all. Would that make it better for you? Should we do that?" Kurt challenged in the heat of the argument, never in a million years assuming Blaine would say yes.

Five seconds passed by without an answer. Ten.

"Maybe we should," Blaine finally spoke.

Kurt stared at him, mouth agape. Blaine could hardly stand the hurt and betrayal in Kurt's eyes. He wanted to reach out to him, comfort him, explain everything, but he couldn't. He was paralyzed.

Slowly, Kurt raised a shaking finger and pointed toward the door. His voice came out steadier and clearer than he thought was possible.

"Get out. Now."


	12. Chapter 12

**Monday Evening**

This was bad. Very bad. So much worse than what he had expected.

Chancellor Anderson sat in his office, watching the news report and pinching the bridge of his nose, trying to figure out how everything had gone so wrong.

His disastrous visit to Dalton, of course, was being televised across the country, which would only fuel the voices of the Resistance. He had no idea it had gotten so bad. And for his son, his own flesh and blood to be lying to him about it? This had to be stopped now before it could pick up any more speed.

The Chancellor picked up his phone and called the Dean of Dalton. This was an urgent matter that could not wait another minute.

"Dean Misner. I need you to start writing a bylaw in the Dalton contract stating the illegality of any activities or statements in agreement with the Resistance."

Tonight, he would begin with the academy. Tomorrow, the entire nation.

\---

Hours away, Burt Hummel watched the nightly news, smiling proudly to himself, recognizing the work of his son when he saw it.

**Twelve Hours Earlier**

It was the hardest thing he ever had to do. Blaine looked at the hurt on Kurt's face, saw the hand showing him to the door, listened to the disgusted tone of Kurt's voice, and he nearly tore himself in two trying to deny the side of him that wanted to go rushing back into Kurt's arms and apologize and tell him everything would be all right. But finally, remembering his reason for all of this, he forced himself to move his feet, one after the other, straight out the door and never looked back. He just hoped beyond hope that the damage was not irreparable. Now that he had Kurt in his life, he couldn't imagine it any other way.

Blaine peeked at his watch, cursing under his breath and hurrying off to the Dean's office. He was late to meet his father.

\---

On one hand, Kurt was angry, hurt, betrayed, and offended. How could Blaine ask him to keep quiet, treating him like a child? How could their love and their relationship mean so little to Blaine that he would try to pretend like it didn't exist in front of his father? The first real challenge they faced, and Blaine couldn't stand up to it. Kurt had to laugh at the irony. Of all the literary pairs he loved so much, he never imagined he and his first love would be the epitome of star-crossed lovers.

Yet, on the other hand, Kurt felt a sense of relief. Was it not better for their doomed relationship to end now, at Blaine's discretion, before they could fall deeper, only to be torn apart by the constructs of society? Still, he had imagined having one more month of the happiness that Blaine brought him before the ruinous end of everything.

He kind of felt like crying himself back to sleep, but also like bursting into hysterical laughter all at the same time. What Kurt really needed was time to cool down and sort out his feelings. There was no time, however, for he had a mission to accomplish. As shitty as this day started, it could easily be one of the most important days of his life yet.

\---

"You're late. Have you been crying? Good lord, pull yourself together, boy." Not much in the way of a greeting. Blaine wiped the offending tears from his eyes and stepped forward to give his father a hug. Instead, the Chancellor stuck out a hand to shake. Blaine was used to this; it should not bother him anymore, but something about the way Kurt had been treating him - gently, kindly, compassionately - made this snub all the more frustrating and embarrassing.

The Dean, looking extremely awkward, spoke softly. "Good morning, Blaine. The Chancellor would like to shadow you today, to get a feel for what a day in the life of a Dalton student is like. After classes finish this afternoon, we will hold an assembly where he will speak to the student body. I know that it is against our usual protocol, but this is a special case...you are welcome to tell your classmates that the Chancellor is your father."

Blaine nodded curtly in understanding, squirming slightly at the awkwardness of just being in this situation.

"Now, I will leave you two with a little bit of alone time before classes begin. You haven't seen each other in months, I'm sure you have some catching up to do!" The Dean waved cheerily at the two of them and slipped out, leaving them alone.

"Are you finished with your blubbering?" Mr. Anderson asked.

Blaine took a deep breath. "Yes, father."

"Good. How are things going here at Dalton?" He didn't wait for an answer. "I trust you are networking every chance you get?"

"Yes, father." Blaine fought the urge to roll his eyes, mostly frustrated with his father, but somewhat frustrated with himself, as well. Building connections and preparing for the future was his responsibility, his duty to his country. Why did it irritate him so much now?

"Good. And have you met anyone special? Any boys we might be seeing more of in the next few months?"

Blaine shook his head, trying to control the emotion on his face at the mention of someone special. He _had_ to hide Kurt from his father.

"Come on, you can't fool me, Blaine. You wear your heart on your sleeve. It's one of your biggest flaws." Blaine shuddered at the demeaning jest that was stated like a fact. He reminded himself that it was one of the qualities Kurt loved most about him. "I can see it all over your face. I'll ask again. Anyone special?"

"Okay, then. Yes. There is someone." That was all he would give up.

"Tell me about him," Mr. Anderson asked. Blaine couldn't fight the smile creeping across his face. This was one of the rare moments when his father was acting like Blaine had always wanted him to act. He loved these moments. He had always dreamed of sitting down, having a beer or watching a game, talking idly about the boy he was dating, or the new song he composed, or the latest book he read. All he had were these little glimpses of what things could be like if his father was different, though, and he capitalized on these moments.

"He's amazing. He's so unpredictable and intelligent and talented...he's made me really happy, father." He left off the part where they were not actually on speaking terms at the moment, and fought down the sick feeling that accompanied the memories of their fight.

Blaine thought he actually saw his father give him the tiniest of smiles.

"I trust he's High Class, from a reputable family?"

Just like that, he burst Blaine's happy little bubble by bringing politics and expectations into things.

"You know I don't have that information, father. We're not allowed to disclose our statuses to each other. But yes, I'm almost positive." He thought of their future together for the first time. He hoped Kurt would forgive him and they would have a chance at forever.

"What's his last name? Maybe I know his family."

"Uh-uh. No way. Even if I knew, I wouldn't tell you. You'd have our marriage arranged by graduation!"

His father laughed, a sound so rare that Blaine was not completely used to hearing it. "That's true. I suppose I can leave you two to it."

They sat in silence for a few seconds.

"You know why I am here, don't you?" The Chancellor asked.

"Yes, sir."

"These people who call themselves the Resistance, they threaten everything we know. We need to put an end to them. They are the enemy. Things are just fine the way they are."

"Are they?"

Blaine wanted to reach out and grab the words and stuff them back in his mouth, but it was too late. He might have shit his pants with the look his father gave him. After a second, though, the stormy, offended, _shocked_ look smoothed out into a nonchalant expression.

"What has gotten into you? You've never been the defiant one, Blaine, that was always your-" He choked on the word "brother," almost venturing into territory he refused to let himself into anymore.

Blaine took his father's moment of weakness as an opportunity to correct his mistake.

"I didn't mean anything by it, father. Just what you're always telling me, that there's always room for improvement."

The Chancellor look placated for the time being. He nodded. "Ah, yes." He looked at his watch. "We should get going soon. Wouldn't want you to be late again."

Did he have to slip an insult into every other sentence? Blaine started to stand up, eager to get to class and get this day moving. The sooner it began, the sooner it would be over with.

"Before we go, is there anything I should know? Anyone in particular that I should watch out for?"

Blaine's heart stopped momentarily. His father always knew when he was lying. He pulled his best innocent look and shrugged. "No, sir. Not that I know of."

He chanced a look at his father's face and was relieved, for he had seemed to believe him. Kurt was safe. For now.

\---

The morning crawled along for Blaine. He was hypervigilant, looking out for and noticing every little thing. What for, he didn't know. It was possible he was hoping to catch anything that might have happened before his father did to put an end to it or hide it.

Two things would have caught his notice even if he had not been on the lookout.

The first was the sudden appearance of paper roses pinned to the lapels of many of his classmates' blazers. The roses exactly mimicked the roses he made for Kurt every day. He couldn't figure out why in the world people would be wearing them, but in English he saw Renna with one, and strangely, it put him at ease. He was fairly certain it was something he did not want to bring up now, or even know about at this point. Plausible deniability was key when it came to his father.

The second thing that Blaine noticed was the steady stream of students excusing themselves from class throughout the day. More than once, Blaine saw a black marker in the hand of the person leaving class. Again...deniability.

By the time Blaine arrived in Class Studies, he was worn out.

Kurt was already there, smiling strangely and sitting ramrod straight in his seat, his leg jiggling incessantly under the desk. Blaine considered taking a different seat than usual, since Kurt was so angry with him, but instead he settled in his normal spot, trying to catch Kurt's eye and send him a warning look. He knew Kurt thought that the Chancellor's visit would be a good time to make a statement, but Blaine knew better. If Kurt wanted to keep his freedom, he would have to keep his mouth shut.

Kurt never did look at him, though. He diligently ignored Blaine, even though Blaine was positive Kurt could tell he was looking at him.

And when Mr. Brower called the class to order, Kurt maintained his posture and the creepy smile plastered on his face.

 _Damn_ _it_ , Blaine thought. _He's_ _up_ _to_ _something_.

But in his immediate future, it wasn't Kurt that Blaine needed to worry about at all. Mr. Brower announced that in lieu of their regular lesson today, they would be brushing up on the Declaration of Independence.

"It has become clear to me that some among us may have forgotten the contents of this essential document, so I would like to take some time to refresh. Let's go around the room reading lines, and then we will split into groups and write summaries of the Bill of Rights amendments, stating how we benefit from each one. There is a particular passage from the Declaration that I would like to cover first. We have a special guest with us today. Chancellor Anderson, would you like to start us off with the second paragraph on page fifty-five?" Mr. Brower smiled politely, but Blaine could practically see the venom behind it. He noticed the speed of Kurt's jiggling knee accelerate too, excited at the prospect of what they were about to do. Thankfully, his father was often oblivious to subtle pragmatic cues like that, and seemed all too happy to start the class off.

 _"We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness."_ The Chancellor's voice filled the room. "Blaine, would you please continue?"

 _"That to secure these rights, Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed,"_ he paused, knowing exactly what he would do next. "Kurt," he passed the next phrase on to the boy sitting next to him. He knew it was a dangerous choice, but an opportunity he couldn't pass up.

Kurt cleared his throat, and to anyone less familiar than Blaine, nothing would have been amiss. But Blaine could see Kurt fighting the urge to get to his feet, the importance of what he was about to read in the presence of the head of the nation fulfilling every purpose he had ever lived for.

 _"That whenever any Form of Government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the Right of the People to alter or to abolish it, and to institute new Government, laying its foundation on such principles and organizing its powers in such form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect their safety and happiness."_ There was palpable tension in the room after Kurt's passage. Blaine craned his neck to look at his father, heart thumping when he saw that the Chancellor had figured out what was going on. Blaine only hoped Mr. Brower wouldn't lose his job over this. But the Chancellor merely sat with his lips pressed together, hands gripping his pen, scribbled notes forgotten on the paper atop his lap. "Robert," Kurt urged the next reader.

They continued on through the next few sentences, until Mr. Brower stopped them and had them split into groups to discuss their assigned amendment.

Blaine finally caught a good glimpse of Kurt's face, and the thrill that was evident in his expression ignited something in Blaine too. But nothing he felt could compare to the weighty dread in the pit of his stomach.

\---

That same dread grew and grew during the course of the day, its nasty little tendrils snaking up and around Blaine's heart, taking it prisoner, and reaching its maximum point at the assembly that afternoon.

The Chancellor had asked Blaine to accompany him by the podium while he addressed the school. He hoped to do some damage control. The situation was not completely out of hand, and perhaps he could reason with the student body by helping them remember how good things were now. If that didn't work, he had some scare tactics prepared as backup. Nobody would continue resisting if the lives of their loved ones were at stake. Harsh, perhaps, but necessary.

Blaine sat grudgingly next to his father, keeping his eyes down except for a few quick glances up at the crowd to keep tabs on Kurt, who was sitting in the dead center of the auditorium.

A camera crew from the national news was set up right in front of the front row, ready to broadcast the entire speech live across the country.

Blaine hated being singled out in front of his classmates like this, but in front of the cameras, he pulled together his best "public appearance" persona. Putting on that face lulled him into a strange sense of calm, which he welcomed.

"Good afternoon, students of Dalton Academy," the Chancellor began after a nod from the cameraperson. "Thank you all for allowing me to speak with you today."

Blaine half-tuned him out, having listened to his father speak more times in his life than he would have preferred. He knew the Chancellor was droning on about how talented and promising the students were, and how they would contribute greatly to society one day. That would transition seamlessly into a talk about tradition and why society was so successful, running on the principles that had been in place for hundreds of years.

Blaine nearly fell asleep under the hot lights, floating in the buzzy headspace of being completely detached from his mind, until he caught a flurry of movement out in the audience.

His eyes darted up to see Kurt standing atop his seat. He had removed his jacket, but his rose was now pinned to his shirt, which had large letters across it in black marker.

 _Equality_.

Blaine could not breathe. This could not be happening. He realized the cameras and his father had not yet noticed the disturbance, so he tried to keep a calm facade, not revealing the true panic he felt, while trying to make casual eye contact with Kurt. He was silently begging him to please call it off, to stop drawing attention to himself.

But Kurt stood strong. And before Blaine could think about anything else, people around Kurt were removing their jackets and standing on their chairs too.

_Freedom._

_Justice_.

 _Integration_.

Their shirts spelled out what was most important to them. Each and every one of them had a red and gold paper rose pinned to their shirts.

 _Oh my god,_ Blaine thought, when the realization hit him.

It was then that his father noticed what was going on in the audience.

"Please be seated." An edge of panic crept in his voice.

But more students stood. Soon, over a hundred students were on their chairs, roses and words displayed prominently on their bodies.

"Sit down, I said!" The Chancellor was starting to lose control.

The cameras finally swiveled away from him to focus on the audience. Blaine was so thankful they hadn't turned earlier, because now Kurt just looked like one of many students involved, rather than the organizer.

While the Chancellor stumbled over attempts to get the students back under control, they all jumped down from their seats in near-perfect unison. Slowly and silently, they turned and walked out of the auditorium, ignoring the Chancellor's protests. The news crew followed along behind them, knowing this could be the story of their lives.

Blaine's father looked at him helplessly as the protesters filed out of the auditorium, but Blaine could only shrug. "Go on," he mouthed.

The Chancellor's face was pale as he turned back to the remaining crowd and continued on with his speech, pretending as if nothing was awry.

But Blaine knew. This was the beginning of the end.

\---

After clearing out the auditorium, Blaine and his father had a horrible, hurried discussion in which Mr. Anderson remained calmer than Blaine could have ever expected, clearly indicating that something was very, very wrong, before taking off quickly to go back home and undoubtedly destroy everything Blaine knew Kurt valued, Blaine's father had called him out on his lie about there being nobody to look out for, nobody who was stirring up talk about the revolution. Blaine had brushed it off, telling his father he really had no clue, and that people deliberately hid things from him because they knew of his loyalty to the Chancellor. He was lying through his teeth now, but had miraculously become a professional at hiding his true feelings from his father. He had a feeling it had something to do with what was on the line here. Blaine could only thank god or the heavens or the fates, or whoever was responsible for this, that the Chancellor was still completely in the dark about Kurt's involvement in and instigation of the protest.

Blaine was sick of the separation from Kurt, and had a strong desire to be back with him, sharing in the onslaught of feelings Kurt was sure to be experiencing right now. Blaine headed back to his and Kurt's room with a bouquet of roses, a plan for an apology, and the whole night to make things up to him. To his surprise, though, the door was locked. Ever since Blaine had moved in (unofficially, of course, which meant he did not have his own key), Kurt had kept the door unlocked so Blaine could come and go as he pleased. Standing in front of the locked door was a blow for Blaine. It was Kurt's way of clearly stating that he had no intention of talking or making up.

Discarding the roses in the trash, Blaine considered his options. He could sleep downstairs in his and Kurt's hideaway, but he suspected that if Kurt wanted to go down there in the middle of the night, he would be none too pleased to find Blaine in there. Then there was Renna's room, but he decided against that option, because he did not want to put Renna in the middle of their fight. That left only one option. It was not ideal, but it would have to work.

\---

Visions of men bidding for his body plagued Kurt's sleep, yet when he woke, he found that reality was not much more soothing. True, he had pulled off a student walk-out that was the first of its kind, and surely making waves across the country by now. But for the last two months, he had imagined Blaine by his side when he did something this big. Now, he and Blaine were in what seemed like an irreconcilable argument, and they couldn't have been farther apart, emotionally. Not only that, but the protest would surely be a catalyst for new restrictions that Kurt wanted nothing to do with.

Kurt heaved a sigh, staring into the darkness of the night. He wanted to visit his room downstairs, sing a song to get things off his chest, sketch a little, but he assumed Blaine had gone down there to sleep after finding he was locked out of their room, and Kurt really was not ready to face him yet. So he attempted meditating for a bit, if only to get thoughts of Blaine out of his mind.

\---

Down the hall, Blaine was not sleeping either. It was haunting to be here in his old room, the place where his roommate had threatened his safety. The place where there was no pair of strong, solid arms wrapped around him to help assuage his fears.

Calen, his old roommate hadn't returned yet, out doing god knows what. As Blaine attempted futilely to fall asleep, the sounds of raucous laughter floated down the hallway, getting closer with each passing second.

Blaine tensed, pretending to be asleep, as the door clicked open.

"Who the fuck-" Calen asked, turning the lights on and spotting Blaine. "Oh, it's you."

 _Fear_.

A hand grabbed a handful of Blaine's shirt and yanked him out of bed. He was suddenly face-to-face with Calen. Two other boys standing nearby watched with bored smiles on their faces. Being this close, Blaine could smell the alcohol on their breath.

"It's Blaine fucking Anderson. The Chancellor's boy." The witnesses gasped, knowing Calen had just breached one of Dalton's most serious rules, even though everyone already knew who Blaine was. "You think you're all high and mighty, don't you?"

 _Terror_.

Blaine shook his head.

"You think you're superior to everyone else just because of who your daddy is. Well here's what I think of that!" Calen grabbed a coffee mug off of his table and threw it into the wall with immense force, shattering the ceramic into tiny pieces.

Blaine was shaking, silent tears running down his face, fearful for what would happen next.

"Yeah!" The other two boys started picking up furniture and overturning it on the ground.

 _Panic_.

Blaine curled in on himself the best he could. He couldn't see any way out. He crawled onto his bed, pushing his back as far into the wall as it could go. He knew how to defend himself. He was trained in boxing, for crying out loud. But the panic had a paralytic effect. Not to mention the fact that they outnumbered him three to one.

The trio raged on and on, seeming to forget Blaine was even there until...until they didn't.

Calen hurled a desk lamp at Blaine, shouting "heads up, Elite asshole!" as the lamp was already flying through the air.

Blaine barely had time to register what was happening before something very hard collided with his head.

 _Pain_.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the continued support. I don't say enough how important you all are to me and this story!

**BREAKING NEWS** : Chancellor announces Resistance ban in afternoon press conference. Resistance punishable by $10,000 fine and 3 years jail time. All citizens now required by law to report sightings of Resistance gatherings or activities.

\---

Sunrise was an incredible thing. The pinks and the oranges and all the impossible to name colors in between doused the earth, waking it up in the most beautiful way every single day, without fail. If nothing else in the world was certain, the sun would always, always rise.

Underneath his tree, Kurt sat wrapped in multiple blankets, watching the morning miracle before him. It was chilly, and everything was a little damp and muddy, but for once, Kurt did not care. Whenever things seemed to be falling apart in his life, he liked to remind himself of the steady things - the sunrises, the stars in the night sky, the way time ticked on no matter what. It helped him remember that not all good things had to end. That some things do last forever.

Despite the time (6:00 in the morning). Kurt heard footsteps approaching him. He turned and saw Renna, an unreadable expression on her face. She did not say anything, so Kurt just opened his blanket and offered to wrap her inside with him. She gladly agreed. They sat, shoulder-to-shoulder, hip-to-hip, knee-to-knee, for a while, just watching the sun come up.

Renna finally broke the silence, answering the question that Kurt had been thinking.

"I could see you out here from my window. I couldn't sleep, thinking about what we did yesterday, and what it means."

"I know. Me either. Thanks for standing by me in this, Renna." He took her hand under the blankets.

"I thought you hugging me the other night at the party was just a fluke because you had been drinking, but you're actually turning into a touchy guy. Blaine is really rubbing off on you!" She joked, nudging him with her shoulder.

At the mention of Blaine, Kurt tensed and his grip on her hand tightened painfully. Tears stung at his eyes, and surprising both of them, Kurt laid his head on her shoulder and started to cry. Renna did not miss a beat. Her arms wrapped around him comfortingly.

When he spoke, his voice was shaky. "Blaine didn't want to tell his father about us because he was embarrassed of me, so I kicked him out." Kurt hated to put Renna in the middle of this, but he had to talk to someone. "You know how long I resisted letting anyone into my life. I just couldn't resist Blaine, because he's _Blaine_. It's been a confusing, frustrating, _perfect_ whirlwind with him. I knew things would be difficult, but why does it all have to be so damn complicated? It's not like it will even matter in the end, anyway." He realized what he was implying too late, but somehow, it was a relief to have said it to someone.

"Why wouldn't it matter - _oh_!" Renna understood that he was referring to their Classes. "Oh my god, Kurt." She sat for a minute, stunned. She chose her next words very carefully. "I have known Blaine for a long, long time. He is loyal to a fault. You see that with his father. Blaine would do anything for the people he loves, Kurt, including you. So it matters. It all matters. I don't - I think that's what Blaine was doing."

"Doing anything for me? How could he be? He ripped my heart out and stomped all over it. He can't love me anymore."

"Just think about it, okay?"

Kurt hummed his reluctant agreement, and they sat together watching the sun and mulling over their feelings until it was time to go to breakfast.

As they walked into the school, still wrapped tightly in the blanket, Kurt turned to Renna and said, "Hey Renna, you're a great friend. You always have been, even when I didn't deserve it."

She playfully pushed his shoulder. "What can I say? I always had faith you would come around. You're an easy guy to like."

He laughed. "Most people here would not agree with you on that."

"Most people here don't know the first thing about you."

He smiled contentedly and hip checked her lightly.

"Kurt, I'm sorry about Blaine." Her sentiment was heavy, and Kurt knew she referring to more than the fight they were in at the moment.

"Why do you think I pushed so hard against it?"

She sighed. "Well, we're all just hopeless romantics deep down, aren't we?"

"Kurt!" The Dean's voice called from down the empty hallway. "Can I speak to you in my office, please?"

Kurt groaned. He should have known better than to think he would get away with organizing a protest without getting in a little bit of trouble. He left Renna with the blankets, bid her farewell, and followed the Dean to his office.

As soon as the door shut behind him, Kurt said, "I'm not sorry I did it."

The Dean plopped down in his chair behind his desk. "Not even going to give me a chance to pretend I know nothing about it?" He laughed humorlessly. "You knew how risky that was. You're brave, but reckless."

"I don't regret it. So...am I in trouble or not?"

The Dean looked gravely over the frames of his glasses. "Not with me."

Kurt's heart sank. "How bad is it?"

"We're instating the new policy today. Any student who speaks or acts in favor of the Resistance runs the risk of expulsion. And I don't think it's going to stop at the academy level. The Chancellor has announced a press conference for this afternoon. It is speculated that he is going to announce the passing of the new bill banning the Resistance."

" _Shit_." Kurt swore. Dean Misner did not scold him for swearing, which let Kurt know the Dean's stance on the matter.

"The good news is-"

"How can there be good news?" Kurt spat.

The Dean sighed. "The good news is that the Chancellor seems to have no idea you were behind all of this. I know that you won't let anyone tell you what you can and cannot do, Kurt, just be careful. The punishment outside of these walls is far worse than expulsion."

Kurt's grip on the edge of the Dean's desk was strong enough he thought the wood might splinter between his fingers. Neither man in the room moved for a long while.

A knock at the door interrupted them. The secretary poked her head in the room to announce that there had been a serious incident and the Dean was needed at once for disciplinary action.

They hurried off, leaving Kurt to meander out of the office. He needed to get back to his room to get ready for class.

Kurt dressed for the day, the never-ending loop of thoughts about Blaine stunted by new thoughts of how the Resistance would continue on. He briefly wondered if what he and his father did would count as Resistance, and how severely they could be punished if the Chancellor found out they were doing it.

By the time he pulled his messenger bag over his head, Kurt realized something was missing. His rose. He checked his doorway, but no fresh rose awaited him, as it had every morning for the past few weeks, and it hit him like a ton of bricks.

This was it, then. Blaine was really done with him.

He swallowed his emotions and forced himself to go to class, despite the crushing sense of emptiness and incompleteness he felt.

During homeroom, the teachers were instructed to inform the students about the changes that had been made to the Dalton bylaws regarding the Resistance. Even through it all, Kurt found solace in seeing his classmates all around him with paper roses adorning their blazers.

It was not until Blaine did not show up for Class Studies that Kurt realized something was off. There were a thousand possibilities - Blaine could be sick, he could be distraught over their breakup (though Kurt doubted that one), his father could have asked Blaine to come along for the press conference this afternoon - so Kurt did not dwell on it too much.

Class Studies was a somber hour spent reading quietly and filling out a worksheet. Kurt praised Mr. Brower for that; he did not think he could have kept it together today if he had the chance to go off about any hot button topics.

By the time lunch rolled around, Kurt had pretty much had it for the day. He was miserable about Blaine (angry too, though the anger had mostly subsided to make way for the despair), livid about the new law, and exhausted from a night of little-to-no sleep. Kurt could barely hear himself think over the questions and memories and emotions tumbling around in his brain. Balancing the tray full of his lunch on his hand, he fully intended to retreat to his room and meditate before afternoon classes.

Those plans flew out the window the second he heard the first whispered conversation.

"I heard that big senior Calen is getting expelled for seriously injuring another student."

"What did he do?"

"No idea. I heard from a friend of a friend who stays down the hall from him that it was bloody, though."

"Geez. Who did he hurt?"

"Nobody knows. The administration won't say."

 _Oh_ _god_. Kurt knew.

His tray fell to the ground with an earsplitting clatter.

All of the pieces fell into place. The missing rose. Blaine's absence in class. Sleeping in his old room because Kurt locked him out. _Seriously_ _injured_. _Bloody_.

Kurt felt like vomiting. The need to see Blaine overpowered his need to breathe. He fought the queasy feeling in order to run at full speed to the nurse's ward.

The nurse and secretary looked up at him, alarmed, when he came bolting around the corner asking "Blaine?" They both pointed to the door on his left.

Kurt skidded to a stop outside the door, hesitating.

He took a moment to put his own needs on the backburner. He removed his hand from the door handle. He remembered. Blaine didn't want him anymore.

\---

The ringing was unbearable. The pain Blaine could handle. It had dissipated mostly with the help of a hefty dose of whatever painkiller the emergency room doctor prescribed, but the goddamn ringing in Blaine's ears would not stop.

He threw his head back onto his pillow, regretting the decision immediately as pain flared through his skull.

Blaine had gotten away with a severe concussion and seventeen stitches. He was lucky, really. He didn't remember much from around the time of the altercation and what happened after, but from what he could gather, one of Calen's buddies had panicked upon seeing all of the blood and Blaine's scalp split open, and insisted they call for help. There was something to be grateful for, he guessed.

Since he had returned from the emergency room in the wee hours of the morning (holed up in the nurse's ward so she could monitor him for the next few hours), Blaine had been drifting in and out of consciousness, in a constant state of drowsiness. He had been told it was a symptom of the concussion, but it was so inconvenient.

He wanted nothing more than to call for Kurt, but he knew that Kurt wouldn't come. Blaine had hurt him and he was scary angry. Yet, all Blaine wanted was Kurt's soothing touch, his calming presence, his healing voice.

Through the ringing in his head, he heard a strange voice ask for him, then footsteps pounding down the hall to his door, then nothing.

 _That was strange,_ he thought _. Maybe this concussion is causing hallucinations too._

But the longer he sat there, the more sure he was that someone was standing outside his door.

"Um...you can come in?" He called out, unsure.

A few seconds passed, then slowly, the door opened.

Blaine's breath caught in his chest at the sight of Kurt, gorgeous even in these awful fluorescent lights, the saddest and most scared Blaine had ever seen him. Kurt's eyes were glued to him, assessing his state, and apparently deciding all of Blaine's parts were still in tact. Kurt's eyes sharply shifted to the gaudy artwork on the wall.

"I know I don't have any right to be here…" Kurt looked anywhere but at Blaine's face.

"What? That's ridiculous. What are you-"

"I had to make sure you were okay. I heard...never mind. You look...how are you doing?"

Blaine recoiled. So _that's_ what this was about.

"I'm fine. You don't have to feel guilty about what happened to me. I was the one who went back to my old room last night."

Kurt wore a weird expression. "Oh, trust me, I don't feel the slightest bit guilty."

Blaine fought off a laugh. Leave it to Kurt to be reasonable and stand by his convictions. So if he wasn't there because he felt responsible for what happened, then why? He must have come to yell at him, or break it off for good, or maybe because he truly cared about Blaine. But that last option seemed impossible. Blaine squirmed, ignoring the pain in his head as he did it, and trying to fight the wave of tiredness that hit him. His question came out harsher than he meant it to.

"So why _are_ you here, then?"

Kurt was the one to recoil this time, staggering back from Blaine's bedside, looking like Blaine's words had somehow wounded him. "Okay. You have made it abundantly clear that you don't want me. I'll just leave now." Kurt turned around, but Blaine summoned up the strength to catch his wrist. He blinked slowly, his eyelids growing heavier and heavier.

"Don't."

Kurt turned back around slowly, staring at Blaine's fingers encircling his wrist. Blaine knew he was feeling the same tingle that ran through his hand. The one that always ran through him at Kurt's touch. _Kurt's_ _touch_. He hadn't had a fix of it in more than 24 hours and he was like a starving man at a feast. He restrained himself from clawing his way up Kurt's arm and holding him by his side forever.

"What is it, Blaine?" Kurt looked annoyed, but a spark of hope glimmered in his eyes.

Blaine attempted to make his mouth move quickly and coordinatedly, but he knew his speech was slow and sleep-slurred. "D'you honestly think I don' wan' you?"

Kurt's eyes flared. "Don't you?"

It was getting impossible to fight the pull of exhaustion. But he had to say it. He had to fix it. "Of…of c…co..."

Then Blaine was lost to the seemingly endless fog of the limbo between wake and sleep. There did not seem to be any clear distinction between the two.

The dreams his mind conjured were so beautiful that he didn't even want to fight the fog. They assaulted his senses - he could feel warm arms surrounding him, the heat of a comforting body close by, the brush of supple lips against his neck, he could smell the familiar scent all around him that reminded him of home, he could hear the angelic tones of a hummed tune in his ear. It felt impossibly perfect.

Hours later (or it could have been minutes or days for all he knew), his body felt awake, but Blaine fought the pull because he knew as soon as he was fully awake, the phantom sense of Kurt that the dream had created would dissolve into a fuzzy memory, and he would never have it again. Yes, he would stay in this hazy limbo forever if it meant he could keep the memory of Kurt.

\---

Convincing the nurses to let him take Blaine back to his room was the easy part for Kurt. Getting him there was more difficult.

Kurt was strong. He was used to setting up market stalls day-in and day-out, and helping his father haul and install auto parts. But carrying Blaine (small, but dense) up two flights of stairs was anything but a walk in the park.

He lay Blaine down in bed, pulling the covers up to his neck and turning on some soft music.

Kurt sat down to study for the classes he was currently missing, but found himself distracted by Blaine more often than not.

The white bandage adhering to Blaine's head just above his temple was a harsh reminder that Blaine had suffered a great injury. He looked so vulnerable in that moment, curled in a ball, sleeping away his concussion. Kurt felt his heart break watching him. Blaine had said (or tried to say, anyway) that he still loved him, and though Kurt was still outraged at what had happened, he had hope. Hope was what pulled him away from his desk and to Blaine's side. Hope was what urged him to sit by Blaine and run fingers through his hair. Hope was what compelled him to lay down, aligning his body with Blaine's and wrapping his arms around the boy he loved.

He blinked the sleep out of his eyes an hour later. Blaine was stirring, so Kurt rolled away from him and disappeared to the bathroom. Upon his return, Kurt carried a glass of water and a handful of pills.

Blaine was looking around the room, totally disoriented. His face was scrunched up in pain.

"I talked the nurses into letting you come back here," Kurt explained softly. "I thought it might be more comfortable for you. Do you hurt?"

Blaine squeezed his eyes shut tighter, hands clenching the pillow, and Kurt took that as a 'yes.'

Hurrying over, Kurt helped Blaine sit up slightly and handed him the pain medication, which was taken happily.

Blaine placed the glass on the nightstand, only to curl up once more to wait for the medication to take effect.

It was unbearable to watch Blaine in this sort of pain. Kurt sat on the edge of the bed and took Blaine's hand. He started rubbing circles into the muscles there, hoping to wash away some of the pain and tension Blaine was feeling. It was clear when Blaine started to feel better, because he slowly rolled over to face Kurt, watching him massage his hands and forearms.

"Why are you here?" Blaine finally croaked. "Why would you do this for me? I didn't think you'd come."

"Of course I'm here. As soon as I heard you were hurt, I stopped being angry and all I felt was scared."

"So you're not angry with me anymore?" The hope was evident in Blaine's voice.

Kurt laughed. "No, that emotion is coming back now that I know you're going to be okay."

Blaine looked up into Kurt's eyes. He had no right to hope that they could make amends. No right to enjoy Kurt's touch the way he did right now. No right to want to lean up and kiss him senseless.

"I'm sorry I didn't communicate better with you," Blaine said.

"I'm sorry for not listening when you needed me to," replied Kurt.

"I'm sorry for making you feel like a child."

"I'm sorry for locking you out of our room."

"I'm sorry for ignoring you yesterday."

"I'm sorry for not trusting you."

"I'm sorry for lying to you."

"I'm sorry for - wait. What did you lie to me about?"

"I had to get you to believe me. You weren't listening, so I had to make you so mad you wouldn't speak to me. I couldn't let you draw attention to yourself. If you got in trouble because of me, I would never -"

"Blaine! You're rambling."

Blaine took a deep breath. "I am not ashamed of you. At all. In fact, if the situation was a little different, I would be proud as hell to introduce you to my father. I needed for you not to make a scene when he was around because I didn't want to call his attention to you. If he knew you were responsible for that protest, Kurt, I…"

"Calm down, babe. You're shaking and you're starting to bleed through your bandage."

Blaine shook his head slowly, but calmed anyway beneath Kurt's hands. "No. I have to finish. You were so adamant about making some sort of demonstration that the only thing I could do was to distance myself from you and keep the attention off you. You interpreted my idea as me being embarrassed of you, and I kind of just ran with it, because if you were actually mad at me, what better way to keep you away from me?" Blaine's breath shuddered and Kurt reached to wipe a tear away from his cheek. "All I needed was to keep you safe. That's all I ever want."

"Don't cry. It'll make your head hurt worse," Kurt whispered, brushing his fingers across Blaine's forehead. Blaine took some more deep breaths. "I'm so stupid, Blaine. I thought you didn't understand at all, but you understood better than I could have ever imagined, didn't you?"

"If there is one thing in this world I understand, it's you. Why were you so quick to believe I would dismiss you like that?"

"I don't...it's just hard to…" Kurt looked at Blaine, as vulnerable as ever. "Why do you love me, Blaine?"

Kurt bit his lip as he watched Blaine struggle to sit up.

"If you need me to tell you, then I haven't been doing a good enough job."

Kurt's heart broke at Blaine's disappointment in himself and rushed to correct his mistake.

"No, no, you're perfect. You make me feel loved every moment we're together, and every moment we're apart. I just don't know _why_. You don't know anything about me."

Blaine shook his head too ferociously. "I recall having this conversation with you before, but our roles were reversed. Back then, you convinced me that I know everything important about you. I'm inclined to believe that's true. Let me convince you this time.

"I know that you would walk through fire to stand up for what you believe in. I know that you like your eggs over easy with rye toast. I know that you are an amazing designer and a beautiful singer. I know that you are fresh and unexpected and you literally take my breath away sometimes. I know that you're never late, that you spend an hour getting ready in the morning, that the only thing that makes you so uncertain that you blush is physical intimacy. I know that you listen to me and you support me and you allow me the moments of weakness I need without judging me. You give me your strength when I need it most. _Those_ are the reasons I love you. Those and a thousand more.

"I could go on for days, Kurt, but the most important thing I know is that I can trust you. Trust you to always be there for me, trust you to keep loving me. I may not know about your past, and even though I want to, I trust that you know what you're doing with my heart." Blaine looked at him with big, innocent, faithful eyes, a dagger piercing Kurt's heart. "I want you to be able to trust me too. I wish I was strong enough to just stand up to my father, to earn the respect that you show me, but it's not that simple."

Kurt scooped Blaine into his arms, his mind racing with everything Blaine had said.

"I know it's not easy, babe," Kurt cooed. "I just have to be reminded of that sometimes. My dad and I are on exactly the same page, so I've never had to face what you're going through."

Blaine noticed how Kurt's face lit up when he spoke of his father.

"You've never told me anything about your dad before, but I can tell how much you love him. Tell me more."

Kurt shook his head. "I can't. The less you know, the better."

Blaine frowned. "Is he involved in something that's against the law? Could he get fined? Or worse?"

Kurt swallowed hard. "We both are. But it's for a good reason. The best, actually."

"I trust you," Blaine accepted his answer.

"I know you do." _That's_ _what_ _makes_ _this_ _all_ _so_ _complicated_ , Kurt thought.

"Are we going to be okay, Kurt? Can you forgive me for what I said yesterday?"

"On one condition," Kurt responded, sliding his fingers between Blaine's. "Never put yourself in harm's way again like you did last night."

Blaine nodded. "On one condition: never lock me out again. Always give me the chance to talk it out."

"On one condition: always force me to listen to you, especially when I'm being stubborn about it." He leaned in and planted a kiss on Blaine, who groaned in response. It had been far too long since their lips had last touched.

"On one condition," Blaine continued the game. "You help me shower right now."

Kurt's smile grew, as did his desire. "On one condition: you let me take your clothes off."

Blaine held his hand out for Kurt to shake, both dissolving into distracted giggles. There was so much more they had to talk about and work out, but for now, this was enough. "Deal."


	14. Chapter 14

  
_Kurt,_

_I promise I have it all under control. Everything is going to be fine. Stop worrying. Trust me._

_I love you,_

_Dad_

_P.S. Seriously._

_\---_

_Blaine,_

_Your parents were saddened to hear about your accident last week. They wish you the speediest of recoveries. Your mother insisted I send this healing salve to reduce the appearance of scars. She says she can't stand the idea of seeing your beautiful face ruined. Your parents look forward to seeing you again next month._

_Best,_

_Aaron Brigham_

_Assistant to the Chancellor_

_\---_

It was funny how graduation was a day Kurt had been counting down to and anticipating eagerly for years, but it had now become the day he most dreaded, and all because of a boy.

Of course, Blaine was not just any boy. He was Kurt's first love, and the boy who made his world spin around.

Kurt and Blaine's blow up over the Chancellor's visit had been hard, and the making up even harder. Two long, intense heart-to-heart sessions later, they had made amends and their relationship was stronger than ever before. The whole fight had helped them realize how much they meant to one another, and now that they had faced losing each other once already, they both knew they did not want to face it ever again.

So now, as graduation day crept ever closer, Kurt grew more and more anxious about the time when he would be ripped apart from the one person who could help hold him together.

This is what Kurt thought about as he reclined on the couch in his hideout. The clock told him it was just after 2:30 in the morning, but the adrenaline from waking up to a screaming, nightmare-stricken Blaine still coursed through his body, and he did not feel tired at all.

Ever since the incident with Calen, Blaine's nightmares had returned with a vengeance, and though Blaine always apologized profusely and asked Kurt to stay in bed and go back to sleep, Kurt always accompanied him down here and stayed until Blaine was ready to return to bed.

Right now, Kurt was watching Blaine play the piano and sing softly, allowing the music to take over his heart and soul. Kurt's sketchbook sat all but forgotten next to him, the pencil in his hand tapping lightly against his leg.

Watching Blaine like this, sometimes Kurt couldn't believe how lucky he was. Blaine was by far the most beautiful man he had ever seen, and he was so insanely talented that it never failed to blow Kurt away. A thick sense of bittersweetness settled over him, knowing how soon it would all be over.

It was a while before Kurt realized the music had stopped and Blaine was staring back at him. He straightened up as Blaine approached, scooting over to make room on the couch next to him.

Blaine sat, wrapped his arms around Kurt, and pressed a kiss to his temple.

"What's going through your mind? You look so pensive."

"Just thinking about how you'll never be more perfect than you are in this moment. But it seems that everytime I think that, you prove me wrong."

"What could I have even possibly done to deserve you?" Blaine hugged him tighter.

Kurt nestled his head in the crook of Blaine's neck.

"You know what I wish we could do again? Sneak out and go skinny dipping in the lake," Blaine confided with a grin.

Kurt laughed. "That was fun, wasn't it?"

"Very. Remember how nervous you were to take your clothes off in front of me?" Blaine jested. "I'd say that's not an issue for you anymore." He winked.

"Oh yes, you've turned me into a regular nudist," Kurt chuckled. "What can I say? You have a way of making me feel appreciated."

Blaine raked his eyes over Kurt. Even in his loose-fitting pajamas, Kurt managed to look amazing. "That's because it's true. It's possible that there is nothing I appreciate more than your body." He nipped at Kurt's neck.

Kurt shrieked and dodged, giggling. "Don't start that again. It's only been a few hours since last time!" Despite his protests, the memory of Blaine's mouth on him - every part of him - stirred his arousal.

Blaine caught on quickly and tried to crawl into Kurt's lap.

"No, no, no. If we do this, neither of us will be getting much sleep tonight." Kurt jumped to his feet. "Let's go. You're sleeping in your own bed tonight."

"No! I promise I'll be good! But…only if you promise that we can try that one thing again tomorrow." Blaine wiggled his eyebrows.

"Incorrigible," Kurt rolled his eyes. Then he leaned in closer to Blaine's ear and whispered, "You mean the thing I did with my tongue? Yeah, that can be arranged."

He pulled Blaine off the couch, and his sketchbook fell open on the ground. Blaine bent to pick it up and froze in wonder, fingers just inches from the page.

"Kurt. What is this?" Blaine reached tentatively toward the image on the page that depicted a figure looking suspiciously like him in a gorgeous deep red suit with gold around the cuffs.

Kurt looked hesitant before diving down to pick up the book and placing it in Blaine's hands. He looked inexplicably nervous.

"You weren't exactly supposed to see it yet. I wanted to give it to you as a graduation gift." Kurt flipped through the pages quickly, showing Blaine the variety of sketches in the book. "All of these designs are for you. I want you to have these made when you leave here. If you want to, that is." Kurt bit his lip in anticipation.

Blaine thumbed more slowly through the pages of casual outfits, formal wear, athletic wear, and even a series of underwear. Every single sketch was designed exactly for him, and every single sketch had a rose dipped in gold incorporated somewhere on the garment. Blaine was overcome with emotion.

"Do you like it?" Kurt asked, carefully watching Blaine's face.

"I can't even begin to tell you how much this means to me, Kurt. You're astounding. I love you so much."

Kurt beamed and pulled Blaine in for a long kiss.

"Love you more."

Blaine rested his hands on Kurt's shoulders and said "I can picture it now...walking down the street with you, dressed in my clothes that you designed, going to dinner or a show, holding your hand, kissing you whenever I want, pretending to dodge the press but secretly trying to show off my amazing boy...life after Dalton is going to be fantastic, Kurt."

The words caught Kurt completely off guard. Blaine hadn't ever mentioned the future before, and Kurt refused to think about it. He didn't even know how to respond. But Blaine looked so happy and hopeful, eyes shining with visions of the rest of his life.

The worst part of it all was that up until now, Kurt had shut out all such visions. He hadn't allowed himself to dream about what could have been even a little bit. But with Blaine's words, images of a long, happy life with a handsome husband (okay, it was Blaine, who was he kidding?) swirled to life behind Kurt's eyes. It _hurt_. Knowing he could never have all of those beautiful things with Blaine caused the worst heartache Kurt had ever experienced.

With all of his strength, Kurt pushed the visions away and swallowed his emotions. He simply smiled and wrapped Blaine in another hug, this time tighter than before.

_I never want to let you go._

_\---_

"Are you sure you don't want to go to the dance? I'll be fine here by myself," Kurt told Blaine the morning of the May Dinner Dance. He and Blaine were lying lazily in bed, snuggled in close, Kurt running his fingers through Blaine's curls - an activity that was easily becoming his favorite pastime.

"With how many times you've asked me that, I'm starting to think you don't want me around tonight…" Blaine pouted.

"I just don't want you to miss out on anything because you're worried about making me happy."

Blaine shrugged. "I'm only happy when you're happy, so…"

Kurt purred as he usually did when Blaine said such intimate, romantic things. His fingers drifted to the corner of Blaine's forehead, where his scar stood out, long and angry-looking. The stitches had been removed and the cut was healing. It didn't hurt anymore, but Blaine hated the way it was so prominent. When people spoke to him now, he noticed how their eyes always wandered to the scar. He was extremely self-conscious about it with everyone except for Kurt. Kurt worshipped the scar, praised him for his strength, constantly whispered reminders that "scars tell the story of who we are…" How Kurt always knew exactly what Blaine needed to hear was as mysterious as the boy himself, but Blaine was forever grateful.

"What should we do tonight? Go to the jazz club? Movie night in our room?" Blaine suggested.

"No."

"Then what?"

"Let me take care of it. You just relax your pretty little head."

So Blaine did relax. And when night fell, Kurt returned to their room from an hour-long disappearance to drag Blaine down the stairs, out the door, and across the grounds. They zig-zagged through trees and around gardens, and Blaine thought they might be going off campus, but they stopped right at the edge of the grounds. In a secluded corner surrounded by a wall of trees, an indulgent, candlelit picnic was set up.

Uncharacteristically, Blaine squealed at the sight, and practically ran to sit down on the blankets Kurt had spread out.

"You never told me you had a secret hideout out here!" Blaine accused, folding his legs under him and excitedly taking in the sight of the spread of food displayed before him.

Kurt sat gracefully next to him, skin glowing incandescently in the moonlight. "I don't," he admitted. "I just found this place today when I went searching for a picnic location."

"Well it's too bad we just now found it when we don't have much time left at school."

The too-familiar knife twisted aggressively in Kurt's heart.

"So," Kurt cleared his throat. "Stephen in the kitchen hooked me up. It's too soon to tell, but I think he might decide to leave you for me. We've got a charcuterie board, bread, fruits, and even…" Kurt pulled a bottle of wine out from the basket. "Chardonnay. I may have told him it was my birthday."

Blaine laughed. "You little sneak. How could you take advantage of such an innocent man like that?" When Kurt's expression didn't change, Blaine's eyes grew to twice their normal size. "Wait...it's your birthday?!"

Kurt nodded, acting like it was no big deal.

"What the hell, Kurt? Why didn't you tell me? I would have done something for you!" Blaine looked around frantically, searching fruitlessly for something to give him.

"It's okay, it's been years since I did anything for my birthday. I usually just hang out in my room and study for finals." He shrugged.

Blaine was appalled. "Okay, well I'll...I don't know. I'll think of something. For now, come here."

Kurt crawled closer, and Blaine pulled him into his lap. He captured Kurt's lips in a tender kiss. "Happy birthday, Kurt."

"You're the best birthday present ever."

Blaine nuzzled into him briefly before leaning back. "Okay, birthday boy, I'm starving."

Kurt climbed off of Blaine's lap, and grabbed the bottle of wine. He poured two glasses, and the boys snacked and sipped, exchanging occasional stories about their weeks, or sharing thoughts that crossed their minds. Kurt started to feel the warmth of the alcohol spreading through him. He leaned against Blaine, grabbing one of his hands and threading his fingers between Blaine's.

"Blaine?"

"Yeah?"

"Since I know you absolutely refuse to lay a finger on me when I've been drinking, I want to say something now just in case…"

Blaine's heart sped up and he didn't know why. Kurt's face was so close, and he longed to reach out and kiss him, but it would be rude to interrupt.

"Later tonight, if at any point, we get...carried away...with each other, I want you to know that you have my consent."

Blaine was confused. "Consent? For what?"

Kurt looked calm and confident as he spoke. "For anything. For you to do whatever you want to do. I trust you with my body."

Blaine flushed, heart hammering erratically. His palms were sweating and his arms felt weak and why couldn't he just react like a normal human? "You mean more than we've done before?"

Kurt nodded.

"You want...to make love to me?"

Kurt's hands traveled up to Blaine's face. "Well, yes. I do. But I was kind of hoping you would make love to me for our first time…"

"Oh my god, Kurt," Blaine said, breathlessly.

"Is that...is that okay?" Kurt brushed his fingers across Blaine's cheeks.

Blaine pushed Kurt back slowly, taking his hands and pinning them to the blanket above Kurt's head. He lowered himself down on Kurt's body, lying flush against him. His erection pressed into Kurt, showing him that _yes, that's more than okay._

"I know you said later, but I'm not sure I can wait."

In response, Kurt slid his hands under the waistband at the back of Blaine's jeans and pulled him closer.

"Did you, umm, come prepared?" Blaine murmured.

Kurt craned around under Blaine's body weight and reached into the picnic basket, pulling out lube and condoms.

"Always prepared."

Blaine began undressing Kurt slowly and methodically, matching him article for article along the way. The cool nighttime air barely had time to raise goosebumps on Kurt's skin before Blaine was back on top of him, skin-to-skin, kissing him fervently, freely sharing his body heat. Kurt's hands were all over Blaine - his shoulders, his back, his ass, his hair, and he left a smoldering trail in his wake. Blaine shivered, though it had nothing to do with the chill in the air, but Kurt pressed closer anyway. Kurt trembled with need as Blaine mouthed his way down to his neck, leaving not a single inch of skin untouched.

It was unfair to every other man in the world, Kurt had the presence of mind to think, that he had Blaine to share this with. Surely it wasn't like this for everyone. No, Kurt knew he had something special with Blaine. Something that made him feel complete. Untouchable. Transcendent.

It was with this thought that Kurt rolled them over, slithering down Blaine's body to take his cock into his mouth. Blaine gasped wildly, propping himself up on his elbows to watch. His brain was addled with pleasure, but Blaine thanked whatever cosmic blessing it was that had been bestowed upon him for bringing Kurt into his life. He sent up another silent thanks when Kurt started doing _that_ _thing_ with his tongue.

"Yes, oh my god, yes!" He moaned, head falling back in rapture. His breathing accelerated, and Kurt knew enough to know that he had to stop or it would all be over in a matter of seconds.

Kurt moved back up Blaine's body, a lustful grin across his face, hair flopping over his forehead.

"You're beautiful, Blaine," Kurt told him with a peck as his hand trailed along the hard muscles of Blaine's stomach. "And sexy," another peck. "And you know just exactly what to do to - oh god, _that_!" Kurt cried out when Blaine's slicked finger skated between his cheeks and over his entrance. He rolled himself and Blaine to the side and hitched his top leg over the other boy's hip so they could continue to grind against each other while Blaine prepared him.

This was a completely new and exciting experience for both boys. Once, as they were just beginning to explore the limits of their advanced physical relationship, Blaine had watched Kurt fingering himself. It had been so extremely intimate, the private show that Kurt put on for him and him alone, and Blaine had barely even needed the assistance of his hand when he came all over the bedsheets that day.

If Blaine thought he had reached the height of his ecstasy then, it was absolutely nothing compared to what he was feeling now, his middle finger pushing slowly in and out of Kurt's ass, and Kurt's cock rubbing up against his own. Kurt was shuddering almost nonstop now, and Blaine could feel his quaking deep in his chest. Kurt had lost all ability to keep track of what his lips and tongue were doing, simply whimpering into Blaine's mouth with no power over what words or sounds came spilling out.

With the addition of a second finger, Kurt hissed in pain, but Blaine allowed him time to adjust, reading Kurt's cues before continuing, and once again, Kurt was utterly lost in his love for Blaine. It was evident in his eyes, the eyes that Blaine could see even when he closed his.

It briefly crossed Kurt's mind to be ashamed of the noises he was making, but one look at Blaine's flushed cheeks and swollen lips and blown pupils, and he forgot his own name.

"Kurt, if you k-kee-keep rolling your h-hips like that, I-" Kurt froze immediately. He wanted this to last. Wanted to feel Blaine inside of him for the first time.

"But don't stop," Blaine whined, eliciting a throaty laugh from Kurt.

"You can't have it both ways. But I've got something better for you." Kurt moved to pull away, grabbing Blaine by the wrist and taking his fingers out of his ass, leaving behind a burning emptiness. "I need you inside of me."

Kurt rolled the condom onto Blaine and spread lube over his pulsing cock while Blaine stared, dumbstruck at what was happening.

Kurt paused, searching Blaine's eyes. "Are you okay? Should we stop?"

Blaine took Kurt's face in his hands and kissed him. "No, I never want to stop. I just can't believe that my wildest dreams are actually coming true."

"Fucking me?" Kurt smirked.

"Loving you," Blaine corrected.

Kurt's limbs went weak at Blaine's profession, but Blaine held him up, as he always did. Kurt lowered himself back down on the ground face down, resting on his forearms.

Blaine wasted no time in draping his body across Kurt's back, kissing along his spine, licking and sucking at his favorite spot on Kurt's shoulder. Kurt turned his head and caught Blaine in a fiery kiss, before Blaine broke away and braced himself on his knees behind Kurt.

The sensation when he pushed in was unbelievable. Blaine let out a long moan, but held back while Kurt adapted to the new feeling. He noticed how tense Kurt's muscles were, so he ran a soothing hand across his back.

"Are you in pain, Kurt?"

A few seconds passed before he got an answer. "It's okay, just go slow."

So Blaine went slow. Agonizingly slow.

"Not that slow. You're killing me!"

Blaine laughed, causing his hips to jerk and his cock to brush Kurt's prostate. Suddenly, all of Kurt's pain had been consumed by white-hot pleasure.

"Blaine, fuck! You feel ahh-amazing!" Kurt rocked his hips backward, setting a pace for their love making. Every time Blaine pushed in, Kurt let out a whimper, balling up the blanket in his hands.

Blaine's hands were gentle on his hips, caressing gently at the sensitive skin below Kurt's ribs, but Kurt felt his hands tighten ever so slightly, one of them reaching around to stroke him, and knew the heat was building. He was close himself, and let Blaine know.

Blaine kissed at Kurt's shoulder again, grinding deep and slow into him, lost in a shower of stars behind his eyes.

"Oh...Kurt...I'm gonna…I need to…"

"Come," the word tumbled from Kurt's lips, and Blaine sped up his movements until they were both practically sobbing with pleasure. Kurt went first, spilling into Blaine's hand, and the clench of his muscles around Blaine had him following only seconds after.

"Kurt...holy shit," Blaine swore as he pulled out, cleaning up as quickly as he could before curling up in the circle of Kurt's arms.

"Mhmm," was all Kurt could come up with. His eyes were closed, and he was touching every part of Blaine that he possibly could. He had the sudden irrational thought that he would rather die here with Blaine in his arms than ever peel himself off of the perfect man who was his everything.

They lay quiet for a while, listening to the sounds of nature and memorizing each other's heartbeats.

"Blaine?" Kurt asked.

"Yeah?"

"You know the saying, 'thoroughly fucked?'"

"Yeah?"

"I totally get it."

They laughed, voices echoing in the night.

As if just remembering the cold, Kurt shivered. Blaine reached out for one of the extra blankets folded up near them and wrapped them up in it.

"I can't wait for you to give me that feeling," Blaine joked.

Kurt felt excited at the prospect. "I'm an eighteen year-old boy, Blaine, you don't have to wait. Give me five minutes and your mouth on my dick and we'll be good to go."

The laughter overtook them once more.

"Oh, I love you. A lot," Kurt admitted with a kiss to Blaine's forehead.

"I love you too. A lot a lot." He seemed lost in thought for a minute. "One time you said you loved me more than you should. What does that mean?"

Kurt bit his lip, deciding how much of the truth he should tell.

"It means that you've made yourself at home in my heart. My heart wouldn't know what to do without you. You have the power to break me."

Blaine's hands tightened around him. "I would never." It was a vow.

Kurt felt a rush of adoration. "I know you wouldn't." _But no matter how hard you fight for me, it won't be enough._

"Happy birthday, Kurt." Blaine kissed him deeply, initiating the desire in his core once more.

_Just for tonight,_ Kurt promised himself, he would forget it all and give Blaine everything he deserved. Just for tonight.

\---

Hours later when the boys could finally tear themselves away from each other, they decided to celebrate Kurt's birthday at the Dinner Dance after party. The second Kurt and Blaine walked through the door, Kurt was bombarded by a small group of people who made quick work of separating him from Blaine and pulling him into one of the bedrooms down the hall. Kurt looked wistfully over his shoulder (the one Blaine had claimed not all that long ago), but Blaine blew him a kiss and mouthed the word _later_.

The three boys who had pulled Kurt way had been classmates of his for years, and though he had never made friends with them, he had always liked and respected them. They now stood before him, proudly displaying their paper roses, with excited looks about them.

They thrust something into his hands and he looked down in surprise.

He was holding a newspaper. "Resistance Weekly" was printed across the top. Articles scattered the pages, including opinion pieces, advertisements for Resistance-friendly establishments and events, and stories of prejudice and inequality.

Kurt's eyes were wide. "Guys, this is amazing. How?"

"Well, this is just a preliminary outline that we drafted. The real publication would have pieces submitted by readers. We have some contacts on the outside who are helping us get them printed. We will have people posted around in various cities, and there will be a codeword that people can give to get each issue. These will be folded into a normal newspaper too, so it'll be completely inconspicuous."

"You are geniuses! This is brilliant! A way to keep spreading the word. They'll never silence us. But...how will people know about the codeword?"

"Each issue will have the codeword for the following week."

"Wow." Kurt was floored. He was so proud of his classmates for doing something so massive and inspired. "Let me know if there's anything I can do to help. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to get back to my man." He winked at them and slipped away to find Blaine, giddy with the excitement from the newspaper and the hormone-induced high of being with Blaine for the first time.

When he found him, Kurt couldn't keep his hands off of Blaine. It felt like their emotional connection had turned into a physical tether, and he couldn't bear to stray too far away.

When they tore themselves away from a conversation with some friendly partygoers, Kurt asked, "Will you dance with me? This is the last party of the year. It's our last chance."

"That's silly. We have the rest of our lives to dance."

Kurt pushed down the sick feeling he felt at Blaine's words. He pouted. "Please?"

And because all Blaine wanted was for Kurt to be happy, and because he couldn't say no to Kurt if he tried, he allowed himself to be dragged out onto the dance floor.

The world kept spinning, party guests danced on around them, but for Kurt and Blaine, time stopped, and they were the only two in the room.

Kurt had the sense to keep their moves PG-13, despite Blaine's best efforts to up their rating.

"Save it for when we get back to our room, babe," Kurt said in his ear.

They were having a blast, but all good things must end, and Renna interrupted, insisting on a dance with Blaine.

Kurt left his side reluctantly, and wandered back down the hall where the bedrooms were.

"Hey," called a girl he didn't remember seeing before. "Want to do something crazy?"

Instinct was yelling at him to ignore her, that being alone with a stranger at a party was a terrible idea. However, curiosity got the best of him, and he followed her into the room behind closed doors. Kurt saw what she had been hiding behind her back and his eyes lit up. He felt for the familiar, worn object in his pocket, pulling out the precious piece of paper and grinned.

"Absolutely."

\---

Kurt and Blaine walked back through the door to their room, exhausted, but feeling euphoric. The night had been perfect. Blaine clapped a hand on Kurt's shoulder, in the exact place that he always loved to kiss, but Kurt flinched away.

"What's wrong?" Blaine asked, spinning Kurt around to face him. Kurt looked like he was trying to hide something. "Is this about where you disappeared to earlier? Oh god, did somebody hurt you?" His fingers tightened around Kurt's wrist.

"No! No, Blaine. Nobody hurt me. It's…" He looked timid all of a sudden. "Um...don't freak out, okay?" Kurt started removing his jacket and unbuttoning his shirt.

Blaine, momentarily distracted by the perfect planes of Kurt's chest, let his eyes roam appreciatively over the exposed man in front of him.

"God, Blaine, I'm not a piece of meat," Kurt winked before turning around.

Blaine noticed the bandage taped over Kurt's right shoulder.

"Go ahead. Take it off. And remember what I said about not freaking out."

Blaine reached out, tracing his fingers around the bandage, making Kurt shiver. He slowly began peeling back the bandage. "Why would I freak out? Are you sprouting wings or someth-" he stopped dead in his tracks. "Oh."

There, on Kurt's shoulder, were inked three little letters that took Blaine's breath away.

_YES._

"I never really thought I was a tattoo person, but when the girl offered, I just...Those three letters are the most significant in my life, you know. They've changed everything for me. I want a reminder of you with me always. And I couldn't think of a better place to have them marked permanently into me...I hope you still want to kiss me there." He turned around to face Blaine and dared to look up to his face. "Are you freaking out? I know it's a huge deal, and it was probably really stupid of me. Please tell me you're not freaking out, Blaine."

"I am absolutely freaking out," he said, but he was smiling.

"But, like, the good kind of freaking out?" Kurt rolled to the balls of his feet in anticipation.

Blaine nodded, his smile growing. "The very, very good kind of freaking out."

Kurt climbed into bed and patted the spot next to him, indicating for Blaine to join him.

"You're the greatest boyfriend there ever was," Kurt murmured quietly as they cuddled up together.

Blaine didn't even point out his slip up because his heart was too busy exploding.


	15. Chapter 15

"What is the pH range for an acid?"

"6 or less. Isotopes have different numbers of…"

"Protons. No! Neutrons. Oh I don't know. How important is it, really? I want to work in fashion for the rest of my life, not chemistry," Kurt was grumpy. He and Blaine had been studying for hours, their books and papers spread out across the study room in a chaotically organized mess.

"Oh, but if you fail your final exams, you'll have to stay here another year, and there will be no fashion for you. The answer is neutrons, by the way," Blaine waved the flash card at him.

"Ugh!" Kurt threw himself backward onto the table on which he was perched. "I'll be so glad when I never have to think about atoms and elements ever again." Blaine grabbed hold of Kurt's ankle and dragged him to the end of the table, catching him by his hips before he slid off completely. He placed a quick kiss just below Kurt's sternum.

"Come on. It's time for a break. We're going for a walk," Blaine announced.

Kurt gladly took his proffered hand, slipped on some shoes, and followed Blaine outside.

The courtyard was practically empty with all of the students holed up inside studying. Kurt and Blaine strolled along, enjoying the early summer weather that was gracing central Ohio, their joined hands swinging freely between them. Freedom from homework, exams, and Academy life in general dangled in front of them, so close, but still unreachable.

"Can we just be done with exams already?" Kurt complained.

"I know, I think I've started dreaming about integrals and derivatives."

"Yeah, I'm almost positive I heard you solving equations when we were making out last night. Really sexy. I'm pretty sure I'm dreaming in French now. Luckily when I use French when we're making out it actually is sexy, _mon chéri_." Blaine couldn't help but to agree. Kurt continued on. "At least Class Studies will be an easy one for you. You've lived in your entire life. I think the steps to ascent/descent are running on loop through my subconscious."

The subject died down now that the boys had gotten all of their whining out.

Blaine was quiet and thoughtful for a moment. "Would you ever apply for a change in Class status?" He asked suddenly.

Kurt froze. Was Blaine on to him?

It was a topic that Kurt had never given any consideration. He would never leave his father. Or his community. Too many people relied on him.

"No, never," Kurt said firmly. Blaine's resulting smile reassured him that Blaine was still under the impression that Kurt was High Class. He must have assumed that Kurt would never want to switch Classes because he would be happy with Blaine where he was.

"Would you ever consider descending?" Kurt's voice betrayed him and wavered on his question. Blaine's descent was something he had allowed himself to fantasize about once. Only once. And it was so beautiful, hurt so badly, that he shut it down and never allowed himself to think of it ever again.

"No, never," Blaine copied his words.

"Even...even if you had a good reason to?" Kurt knew how Blaine felt about turning his back on his family after what happened with Cooper. He still couldn't help but hope that Blaine would put his love for Kurt above that. Which was entirely unfair of him to want, because he could never do it in return. "A really good reason? Love, for example."

Blaine raised an eyebrow as if to say, 'You are my love, silly.' He considered for another few seconds.

"If I was anyone else, yes. But I can't change who I am."

Kurt sighed, pushing the topic back to the farthest corners of his mind once more. "That is so true. Hey, can we forget about studying for the rest of the night? I think I've crammed as much information as possible into my brain. My motto is: if I don't know it by now, I'm not going to know it."

Blaine had to agree with that. "You're right. Can we see if Renna will have a movie night with us?" He was trying to get as much time in with her as possible before they left school. Blaine knew that even with the privileges that being the Chancellor's son afforded him, he would rarely be able to speak with her out in the world.

"Are you going to be the one to break her self-imposed isolation? I'm not crazy about the idea of being castrated…" Kurt said only half-jokingly.

Blaine laughed. Renna was extremely serious about her studies. She was Middle Class, which meant that with strong enough grades, she could attend a University - a luxury not available to all Middle Class citizens, and to no Low Class citizens. Every time midterms or finals rolled around, Renna locked herself away in a study room for a full week. Blaine wasn't even sure she ate or slept when she was in there. It was pure dedication and desire to get ahead. He applauded her for working so hard, and knew it would get her everywhere she wanted to be in life.

"I'll sacrifice myself," Blaine surrendered. "But if she kicks me so hard that I lose the ability to bear offspring, you're the one who is going to have to donate to make our first child, and you don't get to complain that she doesn't have my eyes."

Blaine was smiling and joking, but Kurt felt like someone had punched him in the gut. He separated his hand from Blaine's and sat down slowly on a bench nearby, hands rubbing mindlessly on his pants, eyes far away.

"Kurt? What's wrong?" Blaine looked panicked, squatting down in front of the bench Kurt sat on. "Did I say too much? I was mostly joking. I know it's way too early to talk about kids."

"Yeah, yeah," Kurt told him faintly. "That's all it was. No worries. I just need a minute."

Blaine nodded, feeling slightly better, and sat beside him until the feeling passed.

Kurt curled up into Blaine's side, wanting to soak up as much of the boy as was possible before he had to say goodbye.

\---

With one exam left, Blaine and Renna had aced their exams so far, primed to come out at the top of their class. Kurt had passed most of his with flying colors, except for Chemistry, on which he received an acceptable grade, but nothing to write home about.

Blaine's Academy career was about to culminate with one final examination, and then he would be free forever. It was not required for him to pursue higher education to serve on the Council, or become Chancellor; he was only required to put in an excessive number of hours of training and assisting before he could assume any responsibilities. His training had begun when he was merely 9 years old, and his father was expecting him to soon replace one of the members of the Council who was getting too old to assume his duties. Blaine hadn't yet relayed this information to Kurt, for fear of getting his hopes impossibly high. Blaine had no idea what to expect from the Council, even with his new insight and influence.

He pushed those thoughts aside as Kurt sat next to him in Class Studies. They were about to take their last test of their careers as students. Blaine was feeling great about it, since he had lived and breathed the Class system since he was born, but knew Kurt was nervous about remembering everything he had studied. Blaine reached out and squeezed his hand in what he hoped was a reassuring gesture.

Mr. Brower stood in front of the class, ready to hand out their tests, but Kurt surprised everyone by clearing his throat and standing tentatively.

"Kurt? Do you have something to say? One last hurrah for old times' sake?" Mr. Brower joked. "The floor is yours."

Kurt had been devastatingly silent during their class debates in the time since the new ordinance had passed restricting his free speech.

Blaine sent him a nervous look. He hoped that whatever Kurt had to say, he would choose his words very carefully.

"Classmates, I would like to say thank you. Thank you all for putting up with my ranting for the past four years. There are some of you who didn't agree with me all the time, or even ever, but some of you were able to open your minds to the messages I was trying to send. I truly, truly appreciate that." He paused, considering his word choice. "I want you all to know that I will always continue to support what is right, and always push to make things better. If you ever find yourself with the same desire on your heart and on your mind, please, please seek me out and together we can work to make the world a better place." He sat down, smiling smugly, obviously pleased with himself.

Blaine let out a sigh of relief. Kurt's words were just vague enough that he could deny anyone who may accuse him of siding with the Resistance. This boy of his was certainly a handful. But Blaine wouldn't have him any other way.

An hour later, the exam was over, taking bringing with it an end to their years of education.

A flood of students rushed the courtyard with celebratory shouts of joy.

Blaine whooped along with the rest of them, eventually finding his way back to Kurt. He put an arm around his shoulders, rubbing at his tattoo through his shirt, and Kurt sighed happily, leaning into him. But his happiness was bound to be short lived.

\---

The inside of Kurt's mind was a miserable vortex of thoughts.

_Gradual separation or clean break? Gradual separation or clean break?_

_I won't survive a clean break._

_Couldn't stand a gradual separation._

_Need to get as much of Blaine as I can while I still have the chance._

_Is dad really holding up okay? We can't afford any slip-ups, not now._

_Things get so tight when I'm away at school, I can't wait to be back home where I can do right by my community._

_Damn it, Blaine looks so hot like that._

_What will he do when it's over?_

_Will he find someone else to love? Someone society approves of?_

_Will I ever find someone else to love?_

_That thought alone makes me sick._

_Blaine has ruined me for all relationships._

_Look at him._

_Will he let me have a bite of that muffin?_

_What is the next step for the Resistance?_

_What can I do to make a bigger impact?_

_Will I ever see Renna again? Leo? The guys from the newspaper?_

_What do I do if Blaine finds me?_

_He's so fucking gorgeous. How can I ever give him up?_

_That's right, I don't have the goddamn choice._

The inside of Blaine's mind was significantly happier.

_Mmmmm, Kurt._

_Life is going to be perfect with him by my side._

_Nailed my exams! Yes!_

_Mmmmm, Kurt._

_Maybe I can even stand up to my father with Kurt's support._

_At least I have a semi-formed plan..._

_Mmmmm, Kurt._

_Oh, oops. I think Kurt was talking to me. I was too distracted by his lips. Ummmm...just say yes._

"Yes."

"Yes? You want to go streaking through the halls with me? I knew you weren't listening." Kurt laughed as he threw a pair of rolled up socks meant for his duffle bag at Blaine's face.

In a surreal flash, Blaine flinched back and curled up into a shaking ball on his bed.

"What happened?!" Kurt ran over to him immediately, wracking his brain for what could have possibly elicited this reaction. Then he remembered. Blaine's head injury had been caused by someone throwing something at him without warning.

"Oh my god, Blaine, I'm so sorry! I didn't think-" Kurt hovered uselessly around Blaine, who wouldn't look up at him. "Shhh. It's okay. You're safe. _Shit! Fucking hell!_ "

Kurt pulled himself together as much as he could and sank to his knees on the floor by the bed so he was eye level with Blaine.

"Blaine, can you look at me?" Kurt called in a wavering voice. He felt tears pooling in his eyes at the sight of Blaine looking so terrified, and at his own idiocy.

Slowly, Blaine turned his head to look at Kurt, but kept his body curled in on itself. Tears were streaking down Blaine's face, and his bottom lip was quivering. Kurt could have dealt with never seeing Blaine like this ever in his life.

"Can I touch you?" Kurt requested softly.

Blaine took in a shuddering breath, then very deliberately nodded his head.

Breathing a huge sigh of relief, Kurt scrambled onto the bed, pulling Blaine into his lap, wrapping his body around Blaine's, as if he could physically protect him from the emotions.

"I wasn't thinking, Blaine, I'm so, so sorry." He did his best to comfort Blaine with his hands, his voice, and his heart. He finally started to think it was working when the shaking and gasping died down.

"I'm the one who should be sorry," Blaine spoke in a whisper.

"What for?" Kurt was flabbergasted that Blaine should have anything to apologize for in this situation.

Blaine settled his gaze on Kurt's face, looking sad. "For reacting that way to you, of all people. I know, Kurt. I inherently _know_ that you would never ever ever do anything to hurt me. I feel like I betrayed you by reacting like that." Blaine cuddled him close, suddenly comforting _him_. "I'm sorry, baby. Please don't be upset with me. How can I prove to you that I love you and I trust you?"

Kurt put his hands on either side of Blaine's face, directing him to look him in the eyes. "You went through a traumatic experience, and something I did triggered you. That is a completely normal response, and you should not apologize for it. Your reaction does not reflect how you feel about me, nor does it affect my faith in your feelings for me. Understood?"

Blaine nodded, his eyes melting hopelessly for his perfect boy.

"I understand. But I'm still sorry. It felt I showed that I don't trust you when, in reality, I would actually trust you with my life."

That is what shattered Kurt's heart. That is what dissolved Kurt into a hyperventilating mess. That is what almost broke Kurt's resolve.

He had been so stupid, so careless with Blaine's heart that he could have kicked himself. Kurt had been so focused on allowing this relationship to happen because it felt good to him, despite all of the catastrophic heartbreak that would ensue, but had he ever once considered what Blaine would want? Maybe he should have been honest with Blaine from the start, Dalton bylaws be damned. Would Blaine have decided to leave Kurt alone if he had known? Or would he have risked it anyway? It was way, way too late now to be asking these questions. Blaine was envisioning their future together, ready to put his entire life in Kurt's hands.

_Oh god_ , the constricting in his chest was making it unbearably difficult to breathe. Should he tell Blaine now? Punish himself for his mistake by having to see the pain on Blaine's face firsthand and having to live with that image forevermore?

Before Kurt could give it much more consideration, Blaine nestled the two of them down into the pillows, and though it was early afternoon, the two boys, emotionally overwhelmed, fell asleep together.

_Clean break_.

Kurt's last thoughts before he drifted off were that it was Blaine's words that _almost_ broke Kurt's resolve. It was Blaine's words that, in the end, made Kurt's resolve stronger.

\---

The next three days, with the end creeping closer and closer, it would have taken an army to peel Kurt off of Blaine. If Blaine slept, Kurt slept. If Blaine showered, Kurt showered. If Blaine ate, Kurt ate. They were inseparable.

When they cuddled up together in bed, Kurt dedicated his entire memory to remembering Blaine's scent and the way his heart beat perfect and steady in his chest. When they stripped out of their clothes and explored each other's bodies, Kurt made note of every dip and curve of Blaine, and exactly how his skin felt beneath his fingertips. When Blaine talked of the future and his hopes and dreams for them as a couple, Kurt curled into his side and squeezed his eyes shut and waited for the moment to pass. And every chance he got, he let Blaine know how loved he was, and precisely how incredible he was.

Despite his best efforts to stop time or at least slow it down, the morning before graduation dawned all too soon for Kurt.

He was mostly silent the whole day, following along at Blaine's side as closely as he could.

Kurt and Blaine packed up the rest of their belongings (which was not much, as Dalton did not allow personal effects to be brought from home), sat outside for hours with Renna, recapping their favorite moments from the year, then retreated to their room for some alone time before having to say farewell to the dorm forever.

The night before graduation, it was traditional for parents and families to come into town and stay with their students off campus, leaving the senior dorms empty. The following day, all students were to convene back at the school, attend the ceremony, then don their Class armbands. The Class separation would begin immediately.

Kurt knew Blaine was eager to meet Kurt's father, and had expressed that he was ready to introduce Kurt to his own father as his partner. Though he still did not think it was a good idea to call his father's attention to Kurt, he was willing to do whatever it took to protect Kurt in any way he could when it came to his future involvement in the Resistance. Every time Blaine spoke of the subject of their families meeting, Kurt shut down his brain and struggled to keep the pain out of his features.

But here, on the verge of graduation day, it was all Kurt could do to keep the tears at bay even when doing the most trivial of things.

"Hey," Blaine said, nudging Kurt from his shoulder so they could face each other.

Kurt bit his quivering lip. _He said 'hey.' Will I ever hear him say 'hey' again?_ Okay, he knew he was being a tad melodramatic, but who could blame him?

"Before I send you off to meet with your dad, there's something I want to do," Blaine told him, excitement glinting in his eyes. He offered his hand, which Kurt took instantly, and led him down to their hideout. They did not usually dare to go there in the daytime in case anyone was wandering the halls and happened to see them, but Blaine was willing to take the risk for this. He locked the door behind them and turned back to Kurt, who was clinging to his arm.

"And you call me cuddlebug," he scoffed, pecking Kurt on the cheek. "There's something I want to give you." Kurt peeked around for a box that could pass for a gift, but found nothing.

"You don't have to give me anything, Blaine," Kurt rolled his eyes.

"Says Mr. 'I give personalized clothing lines for gifts,'" Blaine laughed, pulling Kurt in for a hug before sitting both of them down on the piano bench, ignoring Kurt's grumbles of "that was one time" and "you should be grateful" and "shut up, you loved it."

Without further ado, Blaine touched his fingers to the keys, and a beautiful melody filled the room.

As Kurt listened, he realized this was his gift. Blaine had composed a song for him. And the song was their story. It began at their meeting with an explosion of notes that carried an air of mystery with them. The song flowed into a tentative yet persistent tune as they got to know one another, then exploded once more at their first kiss, the notes all high and bright. Blaine played on, through the joyful parts like their dates and their professions of love, until the song suddenly became dark. This was their fight and the injury, Kurt knew, but he listened as Blaine poured his regret and sadness into the music. He could appreciate this part of the song, knowing that it would brighten up again. Just as he thought, Blaine's notes once again conveyed happiness, extreme joy, and sheer love. Kurt wanted more, yearned for Blaine to keep playing forever, but the song stopped rather abruptly.

"Why did it end like that?" Kurt did not trust his voice any higher than a whisper.

Warm, golden eyes bored into his with a simple explanation. "Because it's not complete. Our story isn't over."

All of the emotions filling Kurt coalesced into one single fireball of desire and he released it on Blaine.

They were kissing and touching and whimpering and moving and before Kurt knew what happened, Blaine was lifting him on top of the piano and laying him out to crawl over him.

"Are we really about to have sex on a piano?" Kurt gasped, breathing heavy.

"I sure as hell hope so," Blaine responded.

Everything about this was different from all the other times they had been together. Each touch was a goodbye, each kiss was a frantic attempt at conveying an instinctual need, each word and sound was laced with unspoken proclamations of love.

It was magical and heartbreakingly perfect, and Kurt knew in that moment of release that he would never in his life feel for anyone the depth of what he felt for Blaine.

When Blaine carried him over to the couch because his legs were too much like jelly to walk on his own, Kurt clung onto his neck like nothing else mattered, because right then, nothing else did.

It took all of Kurt's strength not to break down as Blaine rubbed his back and hummed softly to him, or as Blaine redressed him, or as they walked to their dorm together for the last time, or as Blaine hugged him tightly in the doorway for the twelfth time, duffle bag dropping to the floor.

"Blaine," Kurt said, and the urgency in his voice could not be ignored. "I need you to know how ridiculously much I love you. I hope you understand just how much that is someday. And when things...I just want you to be happy. Please." His face changed from tortured to something more serene, but a tear fell down his face, giving him away. "Do some good out there, cuddlebug. Words can't describe how much love I have for you in my heart."

"I love you too, Kurt. More than I could have ever known was possible." Blaine wiped the tear away from Kurt's cheek. "Hey, no crying yet. We'll still see each other tomorrow. This isn't goodbye. And even then, it won't be forever."

Kurt gave a halfhearted smile and turned to leave, squeezing Blaine's hand one last time.

He was devastated. Because they _wouldn't_ see each other tomorrow. This _was_ goodbye. And it _would_ be forever.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am SO sorry I've kept you waiting longer than usual (and at such a cruel break in the story, too!). I've been on vacation, so if this chapter seems choppy or has errors, I'm blaming vacation brain!  
> I know this chapter is painful, but I promise the torture will be over soon. ;)

 

**Ordinance 468**

A student must submit his/her application for ascent or descent immediately following the academy graduation ceremony. No applicants will be accepted after the student leaves the premises of his or her academy.

\---

The Anderson family had always placed the utmost importance on graduation from academy.

For Blaine, it was the day that signified a new phase of life, and the day he would become an independent adult.

For his parents, it was the day their son finally joined his father in the workforce, and the day they could finally be proud of something Blaine had accomplished.

Blaine had only attended one graduation ceremony before, and the day was burned into his brain. Cooper's graduation day was the last time his family ever saw him.

Blaine thought back to the day that was so clear in his memory.

_Young Blaine sat between his parents in the Eastern Academy auditorium watching Cooper march across the stage and take the rolled up paper from the man standing in the middle of the floor. Blaine was excited because even though he didn't know what the paper meant, he knew his big brother would be coming home for good._

_As soon as the diplomas were distributed, the Dean asked any students who wished to apply for ascent or descent to come forward. Blaine watched Cooper join the dozen or so other students standing on the stage and fell into an utterly confused daze. He vaguely understood what it all meant, but not why. Why would Cooper want to leave them? The Andersons had everything. The purple band around their wrists and their last name alike opened doors for them. Why should anyone give that up?_

_When the Dean started speaking again, Blaine slowly regained awareness of his surroundings. Every single person in the audience was staring at them. His mother was in hysterical tears. His father's face was a shade of purple he'd never seen before. Cameras were flashing left and right, trying to capture the moment._

Blaine recalled the rest of the ceremony being painful. Afterward, the Andersons ran out of the auditorium as quickly as possible while trying to maintain some shred of dignity.

It wasn't until he saw the news headlines the next day ("Chancellor humiliated by Cooper Anderson's Class descent - Blaine Anderson now first in line as heir") that Blaine made sense of Cooper's tight hug and whispers from the previous morning.

_It had been over breakfast that Mrs. Anderson presented Cooper with his gift. The key was nestled inside a pretty, velvet box._

_"What's this?" Cooper had asked._

_"The key to your new home. We had it built especially for you! Now you can move out on your own, but stay close by to begin your work as your father's protégé. We are so proud of you, Cooper."_

_As Cooper had hugged his parents, his eyes clouded over with tears. Then Cooper turned to him, looking pained. Blaine allowed himself to be folded into his mysterious, seemingly untouchable big brother's embrace. Cooper held him tighter than he ever had before._

_"I'm so sorry, Squirt," he had whispered. "I am so sorry."_

Only now that he was older and understood the gravity of the situation could Blaine fully grasp the meaning behind Cooper's words. He was not just apologizing for leaving, he was apologizing for leaving Blaine behind. When Cooper descended, he left Blaine with no brother and no options.

Blaine sighed heavily.

With this history on his mind, Blaine felt the pressure of his parents' expectations. He was Chancellor and Mrs. Anderson's only hope for furthering the Anderson legacy. Despite the horrific experience they had had at Cooper's graduation (or maybe because of it), Blaine's special day was the most important day of his parents' lives. He knew he could live up to it and make them proud, but he now knew that he wanted to do it in his own way. Kurt had taught him to think for himself and stand up for what he believed in. It was up to Blaine to figure out how to blend the person he was now with the person his parents wanted him to be.

The morning of Dalton's graduation ceremony, déjà vu struck over breakfast when Mrs. Anderson passed Blaine a small wrapped package.

He unwrapped the key and looked questioningly to his parents.

"Is this the same-"

"No. We built you your own house, Blaine. We had it built especially for you! Now you can move out on your own, but stay close by to begin your work as your father's protégé."

Blaine remembered what was supposed to come next. _We are so proud of you, Blaine._ But the words never came. It was as if his parents were protecting themselves by not saying it in case Blaine made the same choice as his brother. By the time Blaine was drawn out of his thoughts, his parents were both chatting at him.

"We're throwing you a huge party next weekend. Everyone will be there. It will be simply delightful!" His mother announced.

Blaine's father's mind was on a slightly different, but equally trivial track. "Today is the day you inherit your savings. What will you do first? Buy a car? Travel the world? Start collecting art?"

Blaine thought for a moment. "Yes, I will buy a car. But I'd like to use my money for good. I'd like to use it to send food to some impoverished communities where the people are starving."

The Andersons were dumbstruck.

"Wow. That's...noble of you, son. But you know it's not your responsibility to feed the people who can't feed themselves, right?" Mr. Anderson asked, swallowing his distaste for Blaine's compassion, which he had always seen as his son's least desirable trait.

"If I've learned anything this year, it's that nobody should suffer or die because of something they can't change." He challenged his parents with a stare. Thankfully, they bit their tongues rather than arguing.

After that, the morning sped by. Blaine was antsy, bobbing up and down in his seat at the prospect of seeing Kurt. They hadn't often gone so long without seeing each other, and it had been since the night of his attack that they had spent a night apart. It had actually been difficult to sleep without Kurt, though Blaine wasn't sure if it was because of the lack of Kurt's body keeping him company, or the anxiety he felt about the coming day. He held the gift box tenderly in his hand and imagined presenting it to Kurt. He would, without a doubt, freak out if Blaine asked him to move in. Blaine laughed just picturing it. Maybe he would do it just to see Kurt's reaction. God, their future together was finally in reach, and Blaine was dying to see how it played out.

When he arrived back at the gym of Dalton, Blaine immediately located Renna. She had tears in her eyes, and he knew it was because she would be saying a final goodbye to many of her friends today. He made a beeline for her, eyes scanning the crowd for Kurt as he went.

When he reached Renna, he watched her wistfully for a minute. This could easily be the last time he saw her, too. The red of the graduation gown stood out vividly against her dark skin, and the cap perched perfectly atop her flawless braids, which she had scooped into a ponytail. Her dark brown eyes were looking back at him questioningly.

"You're beautiful, Ren. How are you holding up?" He asked her, enveloping his friend in a huge hug. He scanned the crowd once more. Still no sign of Kurt.

Renna nodded, hugging back tightly. "I'm doing all right. Just a hard day, you know? But it's also a really happy day, so I'm trying to hold it together. Plus, I have to give a speech in a little while, so I better not break down now, or it'll be impossible to get through!"

"That's right, little miss valedictorian! You're amazing, Ren. You worked so hard for this."

"Thanks, Blaine. I'm just glad you were a transfer, because if not, you would have given me a run for my money!"

"I absolutely would have." They grinned at each other. Blaine sighed. "Is your Mama here?"

Renna's face lit up. "Yes. She can't wait to see you. I know you can't really talk to her, but she just wants to see your face and make sure you're doing all right. She said to send her love and congratulations."

Blaine squeezed Renna's arm. "Tell her thank you and that I love her and miss her. Hey, have you seen Kurt anywhere yet? I hate being small. I never can find anyone in big crowds!" He stood on his tiptoes and craned his neck to try to find Kurt again.

Renna fingered her paper rose absentmindedly. "No, I haven't yet. He didn't have you to keep him in line this morning, so he's probably running dreadfully late. You should have seen him before you came along. The boy was chronically tardy."

"I bet. Getting him places on time is quite the challenge." Blaine imagined years upon years of him making breakfast for Kurt, laying out his briefcase, packing his lunch, all to make sure he started his morning on time.

Renna, spotting the huge smile on Blaine's face, pulled him in for one more hug. "You really love him, don't you?" She whispered in his ear.

"I do. He's everything," Blaine confided.

When they separated, Blaine peeked through the crowd once more, then back at Renna.

"Hey. Look," he placed his hands on her upper arms. "I know the plan is for you to go to college, and I believe 100% that you will be successful in that endeavor. But if you need a job for any reason at any time, please come to me. I would gladly let you cook for me, or be my personal shopper, be my PR rep, whatever you want. Just ask, and I'll make it happen. Deal?"

"Deal. You're too good to me," she nestled her head into the crook of his neck.

"You deserve it. 'Kay. Gotta go. They're calling the beginning of the alphabet." He kissed her on the cheek and wrapped his fingers around her right wrist, imagining the green band that he had seen adorning her arm every summer since he could remember. He held up her now-bare wrist for her to look at. "Someday, it won't matter what color you wear here. I swear that to you." Then he was off. He wanted her to remember those words if they were the last she ever heard from him.

\---

By the time the Ks were lining up, Blaine still hadn't seen Kurt. He was really pushing the time limit here. Hopefully nothing had gone wrong.

_Oh my god. What if something was wrong? Something could have happened to Kurt or his father._

_Oh no oh no oh no. Calm down. Oh no. Calm down._ Blaine fought with himself until the music began playing and the line started to move. He focused on walking to his chair without tripping. Maybe he just hadn't seen Kurt but he was there. When they called Kurt's name, he would walk across the stage and receive his diploma. That definitely had to be why Blaine had not seen him yet.

It definitely wasn't. The Dean didn't even call Kurt's name.

When they got to his own name, Blaine was in an outright panic. He walked across the stage to thunderous applause, but he couldn't even enjoy his moment. He wanted to run. Run to Kurt. He didn't even know where he would find the boy he loved, but he needed to be away from here and with Kurt safe in his arms.

The rest of the ceremony passed in a blur. Blaine hardly remembered the Dean calling for individuals applying for ascent or descent, couldn't even recall the faces he saw standing on stage. He barely processed standing up and filing back out of the auditorium with the rest of his classmates to wait for their families outside. He hardly recognized his father as he beamed with pride, slipping the purple band onto his son's wrist.

There were people milling about them, watching curiously, wanting to congratulate him, hoping to get their chance to meet the Chancellor. But Blaine could not spare any attention for them.

"I want to go home," he told his parents in a rough voice while his hands fidgeted anxiously.

The Andersons agreed that they would greet a few more people before taking off.

An hour later (an hour filled with Blaine pacing back and forth in front of the car and wringing his hands), they finally left.

Blaine had the fleeting thought that he should be sad to be leaving Dalton, the place that had brought him to Kurt, but he couldn't bring himself to feel anything other than panic at the moment.

His mother chattered away about his graduation celebration, firing off question after question about food and decor preferences, guest lists, and outfits. All were answered with a distracted grunt.

When he finally walked through the grand double doors of his new house, Blaine couldn't even appreciate the beautiful architecture or the stunning design or the personal assistant who had been hired to help make his life easier in any way possible. There was only one thought in his head.

_Find Kurt._

_\---_

Kurt held his bag tightly on his lap as the bus bumped along down the dirt road, kicking up dust behind it. The last stop was approaching, then Kurt would have a half mile walk to his town, and then he would finally be home.

He breathed in deeply, taking in the familiar scent of dust and nighttime. It soothed his wounded soul to have the peacefulness of _home_ surrounding him once more.

The driver brought the bus to a stop, and Kurt stepped off the vehicle into the real world. He hummed to himself as he walked along, trying to occupy his mind. As he approached the two yellow painted light posts that marked the entrance to his neighborhood and market, Kurt could see the outlines of people gathered outside and could hear the quiet buzz of chatter and the soft sound of music floating through the air. Normally, the market would have been closed for a few hours by this time of night, and everyone would be in their houses. Something unusual was going on. Kurt sped up his pace until he turned the corner where he would be able to see the place where he grew up, and the most endearing sight greeted him.

A large banner was slung across the canopies of two market stalls. In red paint, it read 'Congratulations Kurt!'

The market stalls were set up with plates of steaming food, and music was playing through the windows of the mayor's house (the only house with electricity this time of night).

His neighbors all stood around in the street clapping for him, and right in front of the small crowd was his father.

"Dad!" Kurt squeaked, dropping his bags on the ground and running to hug him. The cheering grew louder as they embraced. He never felt more like himself than when he was with his dad. With the exception of Blaine, of course, but thinking of him was too difficult, so he forced himself to stop.

"What is going on?" Kurt whispered to his dad.

"Everyone is so proud of you, buddy. They wanted to throw you a feast."

Kurt looked around at all of the food piled onto dishes that would doubtlessly be devoured as soon as the eating commenced. It was too much. "But this has got to be close to all you have left. You shouldn't waste it on me!" He protested.

"The people decided they'd risk being hungry for a few days in return for celebrating you. Just enjoy it, kiddo, and we will all work extra hard tomorrow."

Kurt sighed, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't erase the big smile on his face.

\---

One speech, three plates of food, dozens of hugs, a reunion with his friend Sam, a presentation of Kurt's (way too generous) graduation gift, and countless dances later, Kurt and Burt retired to their home, announcing that they would see everyone at the market in the morning.

Kurt walked through the door of his home for the first time in months, and soaked in the familiar scent and feeling. He felt his dad's hand on his shoulder and turned into it. They grinned at each other, ecstatic to finally be together again, and Burt pulled Kurt into another hug.

Kurt fell into his father's arms with a huge sense of relief that everything at home was truly okay. But when Burt tried to pull away, Kurt held on tighter, his relief morphing into indescribable sadness as he finally let himself think of Blaine.

"What's wrong, kiddo?" Burt asked when he noticed Kurt's shoulders shaking.

"Remember the boy I've been writing you about?" Kurt asked, voice wavering.

Burt nodded, understanding that they were about to have a heart-to-heart.

"Come on." He took Kurt by the arm and led him a short distance to the small bedroom they shared. Kurt sat down on the edge of his mattress, which lay on the floor on the right side of the room. He pulled a pillow into his lap, hugging it tight, and imagining it was Blaine.

"You're this worked up over a boy? Must be some guy," Burt sat across from Kurt on his own mattress, and watched Kurt shed tears, concern evident on his face.

"He is." Kurt then proceeded to tell his dad their story, not even leaving out the sex (but adding assurances that they had been safe). By the end of the story, Kurt was gasping with sobs, barely able to control himself.

"He has an incredible heart, dad. He's so empathetic, and caring, and his love for me is so big that it's impossible not to be consumed by it entirely."

"So why so sad? I assume it's because he's in a different Class? And does this guy my son is clearly crazy about have a name?"

Kurt bit his lip. "You know how you always tell me that I'm a great judge of character?"

"The best!" Burt interjected proudly.

"Okay. Hold onto that thought for a second."

Burt looked skeptical, but nodded for Kurt to continue.

"I'm in love with Blaine Anderson."

Burt processed what he was implying for a minute, then his eyes filled with pity. _"Oh, Kurt."_

Kurt only began crying harder. He curled up atop his bed, succumbing to his emotions.

"He's nothing like what we thought, dad. He's all of those things I said and more."

"I believe it, kid. I've always thought I could see compassion in his eyes when he was on TV. I'm so glad you found someone you feel this way about Kurt, but I'm so sorry it has to end like this."

"I tried to fight it, I really did. He's just everything my mind, body, and soul craved," Kurt admitted through gasps.

"I know exactly how you feel. Your mother gave up everything to descend to be with me. Why-"

"Don't even say it, dad!" Kurt shouted. "As much as I love Blaine, I love you equally. And my responsibility lies here in our town. I could never leave you or these people here."

Tears shone in Burt's eyes. He would never admit it because he wanted Kurt to be happy and have everything he deserved, but he was so relieved that Kurt wouldn't consider ascending. Burt needed his son just as much as his son needed him.

"I understand. But for the record, I think you'd take to High Class life like a fish to water. Just know that none of us would have been angry with you for following your heart. You deserve nothing but the best. So is that why you wanted to skip graduation?"

Kurt curled the thin blanket around him despite the summer heat.

"I don't think I could bear to see the look on his face when he found out. I thought it would be better like this, but it feels like I'll never be happy again."

Burt reached over and squeezed his shoulder.

"It'll get better with time. I promise. So...what are you going to do?"

Kurt inhaled deeply, his chest burning. "I'm going to give myself the night to grieve. And then in the morning, I'm going to get up, get to work, do my best to forget Blaine, and hope with all my heart that we can change the world."


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Light at the end of the tunnel here!  
> Oh, and I had to put in a couple of familiar faces. :)  
> Thank you so much to everyone who is supporting me and this story. Your comments and reviews and follows make my heart so full. Much love to all of you.

  
**Ordinance 315**

On the first of every year, a monthly income cap will be set for Low and Middle Class. Families within each Class may not exceed the cap. Excess income must be reported and turned over to the government. Failure to do so will result in a fine equal to five times the amount the offender exceeded the cap for each month the offense is committed, and up to ten years of incarceration.

\---

One month. It had been one torturously long month since Blaine had seen Kurt last, and he _missed_ him. He missed the soft fingertips that idly traced his biceps anytime they were close enough to touch. He missed the cute way Kurt squealed when he playfully smacked his ass. He missed looking into those ocean-colored eyes and knowing the spirit behind them understood him and accepted him and _knew_ him. He missed Kurt's sarcastic laugh, his long legs wrapped around Blaine's own, teasing Kurt about being late, Kurt's undying faith in him, appreciating the beauty that was the boy who somehow loved him back, and he missed the way Kurt was unapologetically true to himself and to Blaine.

But surprisingly most of all, Blaine missed Kurt's mind, and the way their thoughts and personalities converged to support each other and lift each other up.

In the month they had been separated, Blaine had yet to find anyone or anything that filled that void, and he was unsure he ever would. Everyone around him was like a mindless zombie, spouting off the Class Separation mentality that had been ingrained into them. Blaine wanted his equal back. He wanted the person who made him think, who always kept him on his toes. _He just wanted Kurt_.

It was miserable, being separated from Kurt and not knowing why. Kurt had to know how difficult it would be to find him, which led Blaine to only one conclusion: Kurt did not want to be found. That, of course, only spurred Blaine on to look harder. He knew that Kurt and his father were involved in something that wasn't precisely legal, and it was possible that Kurt was shutting him out for that reason. He worried day and night about Kurt and if he and his father were okay. In the back of his mind, though, Blaine started to wonder if Kurt was breaking up with him. He thought that their love was strong enough to make it through anything, but maybe he had misread Kurt's intentions. He was not about to let Kurt go without an explanation, though, so either way, Blaine _would_ find him.

In the beginning, Blaine was a man on a mission. He called every High Class family he could think of to ask if they knew Kurt. Without having a last name to work with, things were a little tricky, but nobody he called seemed to know of any Kurts anyway. He had called the Dean of Dalton to try to get Kurt's last name and address or phone number, but the Dean would not budge in his policy against releasing student information. Blaine attended party after mind-numbing party and spent hours scanning the crowds for the familiar pale face that occupied his every waking thought, but all of this to no avail. After weeks of turning up nothing, Blaine had to start entertaining the idea that he would have to begin looking outside his parents' High Class circles. Kurt was not one to participate in such nonsense, so Blaine had no reason to expect his father would either. That had to be the reason why nobody seemed to know of them. Instead of wasting his time at parties and using his personal connections, Blaine took matters into his own hands. He decided to hit the streets. He went anywhere he could think of: gyms, spas, marketplaces, art galleries, theaters, clubs, malls. When he didn't locate Kurt in any of those places near him, he increased his radius.

Blaine hadn't slowed down his search for Kurt, not at all. His heart was just as passionate about it as it had been weeks ago. He was just traveling farther and having to look more closely now. It was painstaking, but Blaine knew that at the end of it, if he had Kurt, it would all be worth it.

Through it all, Blaine carried with him a single rose dipped in gold every day, just waiting to pin it upon its rightful owner.

In addition, Blaine worked alongside his father day in and day out, learning the intricacies of running the nation. The Council vacancy opened up more quickly than anyone would have expected, and before he knew it, Blaine was seated on his father's right side at Council meetings.

He wanted to remain true to himself and to his promises to Kurt, so Blaine quietly challenged all Separationism, and began to verbally question the current policies that unjustly discriminated against certain Classes. This drew stern looks from his father, but he shrugged them off, and hoped that he would soon have an effect on the thoughts of the other Council members. They were baby steps, he told himself, a pang of longing searing through his chest at the memory of saying those words to Kurt, but at least he was doing _something_.

Naturally, Blaine's parents did not spare a second thought about Kurt or about Blaine's suffering when he explained the situation to them with tears in his eyes. They merely told him to stop crying and suggested he move on. He didn't really know why he expected anything different from them anymore.

The graduation celebration that his mother threw him was nothing short of a disaster. Upon finding out that Blaine was more or less single now (in her eyes, anyway), she invited any High Class citizen she knew with a son around Blaine's age, and encouraged them to present their sons to Blaine. Some of the boys were good looking, many seemed kind, and in another life, perhaps he may have given them a second look. But after being with Kurt, everyone else paled extraordinarily in comparison. As badly as Blaine wanted to throw a fit and order his mother to send them all away, he went through the motions of being introduced to the other men, and politely declined each and every one. Later, when a reporter asked him about it, he told her he was not looking for love because he had already found it. He sent a pleasing look that he hoped Kurt would see and be encouraged to contact Blaine.

No matter how optimistic he was in his search for Kurt, though, the darkness and loneliness got to him every night. Most nights, Blaine let the negative thoughts run rampant through his brain, a whirlwind of _What if_? And _Was it real_? And _Does he love me_? And _Has he moved on_? Wrapping around his body pillow and pretending it was Kurt did little to put his mind at ease as he cried himself to sleep at night.

The one bright spot in all of this was the assistant that Blaine's parents had hired for him. Wesley Montgomery was a few years older than Blaine. He was a fairly serious guy, but unswervingly loyal to Blaine, and would do anything for him. Wes had made it very clear that he answered to Blaine and Blaine alone. Wes was opinionated, but did not often reveal his stance on issues. Blaine suspected that although Wes did not wear a rose, he was secretly part of the Resistance. Blaine was really starting to like him and thought Wes might be a powerful ally in his future endeavors.

Every Saturday after graduation, true to his word about what he would do with his inheritance, Blaine drove boxes of food to a Low Class community of his choosing. His parents were always too busy to help him, so Blaine took Wes along for the ride.

This Saturday, they had a two hour drive ahead of them. Blaine, who hadn't listened to music since he left Dalton (it reminded him too much of Kurt), decided he might be ready to give it a try.

"What do you want to listen to?" He asked Wes, hooking up his phone to the car's sound state-of-the-art sound system.

"Me and a group of guys used to get together over the summers and sing...we used to do a lot of P!nk. Have any of her songs on there?" Wes peeked over the center console at Blaine's cell phone (the one piece of technology Blaine missed the most while at Dalton).

"Of course I do, man! 'Raise Your Glass?'" He tapped the song to play it, and they drove off, singing at the tops of their lungs.

When the song drew to a close, Blaine was smiling wider and more genuinely than he had in weeks.

"Thanks, Wes. I really needed that. You sound great, by the way."

"Yeah, you too. I think you would have made a fantastic addition to our little glee club." Wes' smile faded and he turned serious again. "Hey, I know you're my boss, so if you feel like I'm overstepping, please just say so. What is it that's got you so down?"

Blaine looked up in surprise. He hadn't shared the details of what happened with anyone, but then again, no one had asked. Blaine probably wouldn't have given the whole story anyway, because it hurt too much to think about. After a quick assessment, though, Blaine decided he could trust Wes with this, and that as painful as it was to tell, he wanted someone close to him who knew the whole story.

"You're not overstepping at all. I may be your boss, but I'd like to think we're friends too. Sit back and relax, this is a long one."

Blaine launched into the story of the rise and fall of his and Kurt's relationship, and by the end, he felt considerably better.

"Wow. That's shitty, man. I hope we find him soon."

The way Wes said "we" made Blaine breathe a sigh of relief that someone was on his side.

"After we're done here, if you don't mind driving a little out of the way, there's somewhere I'd like to take you."

Blaine raised one eyebrow as he pulled his car up to the yellow light posts designating a Low Class community, but agreed to the mysterious request.

Delivering food to these impoverished towns was Blaine's absolute favorite part of the week. He couldn't get enough of the excited children jumping up and down at the thought of having a full meal for the first time in weeks, or the hugs from the elderly ladies who tried to slip handmade goods in his pockets when they thought he wasn't looking. Spending his money like this was the best decision he'd ever made.

Between hauling boxes of food into the rundown houses in the neighborhood, Blaine's eyes darted around the market, sweeping the shoppers for his elusive Kurt. As he predicted, though, he saw no sign of the man he loved.

By the time he and Wes hopped back in the car, the lightness and joy that usually accompanied his Saturday routine had already vanished. Blaine was feeling as downhearted as ever, and a sense of hopelessness washed over him. He was beginning to think he would never find Kurt.

"You still up for that surprise?" Wes asked, sensing Blaine's mood.

Blaine swallowed his emotion and nodded, forcing a smile into place. "Show me the way!"

Wes navigated him another thirty minutes away, his idle chatter interjected with driving directions until they pulled up to another Low Class town.

"Where are we?" inquired Blaine.

"One of the best markets in Ohio," Wes responded. "There is a vendor here who makes the most amazing clothes."

Blaine stared at him. "You want to take me _shopping_?!"

"Don't all gay men appreciate retail therapy?" Wes shrugged, half-jokingly.

"That is highly offensive," he told Wes with a loud laugh. "Just kidding. Of course I like shopping."

"You can shop for more than clothes here, too," Wes said quietly.

Blaine's head whipped up. "What do you mean?"

"Please don't be offended. I don't pretend to know your vices. I just know you're down and you want to feel better. This particular town has some very good looking young men. I've heard that many young people in Low Class communities are willing to accept payment in exchange for a bit of their time."

Thankfully, Blaine was not offended, but he was also unimpressed with the thought. "No thanks. That scene isn't for me." His voice changed to a mocking tone. "But I'll let you know if anyone changes my mind," he winked exaggeratedly.

Wes laughed in relief. "Okay, let's go get you some new clothes!"

Blaine picked up the rose that sat on his dash, kissed it, tucked it in his pocket, and followed Wes out into the summer heat.

\---

The mayor's house was air conditioned. Kurt missed air conditioning. He thought he'd never miss Dalton, but there were some things about it that he couldn't help but to miss. Being a comfortable temperature, having electricity and hot water all the time, and not being covered in a layer of dust at all times, to name a few. Working the market meant being out in the sun and dirt all day, and the wind was constantly blowing up clouds of dust that settled in Kurt's hair and on his clothes and skin. The only good thing about it was that it kept the sun from burning his porcelain skin.

But this was his life - a life of no air conditioning, spotty electricity and hot water, and being perpetually dusty - so he had learned to deal with it and tried his hardest to forget Dalton. But since he was in the mayor's house at the moment, he allowed himself a few minutes to indulge.

"Kurt!" Mayor Tai greeted him. She was small, short, and tan with dark curly hair, and goddamn it, she reminded him of Blaine. Most things did, though.

Twenty-eight days had passed since he had last seen Blaine, and it almost seemed like each day was harder than the last. Kurt was resigned to the fact that he would have to live the rest of his life with the burning pain in his heart that longed for Blaine. He sighed, shaking his head. Despite his best efforts, it was all too often lately that Kurt found himself falling into what he had dubbed the "black hole of Blaine."

Pulling himself out, he put on his best smile and returned the mayor's greeting.

"Good morning Mayor Tai! Can we go to your office?" She happily led him up the stairs and to her office.

"What can I do for you today, Kurt?"

He slid a finger underneath his yellow Class band, which had been feeling more restrictive than ever lately.

"We need to put in another order."

"Already?"

"Things have been going so well. We may even have enough this month to spill over to the next town. Now that we don't have to save up for when I'm away at school, we can be more flexible with our spending."

The mayor beamed at him. "Is the order for textiles or parts?"

"Both, actually." He handed her an envelope that he had tucked into his shirt. "I wrote down what we need on a piece of paper in the envelope." He was quiet for a moment. "I have one other request for you…" He was nervous to ask, for fear of rejection.

"Anything, Kurt," the mayor reached across and touched Kurt's hand. "You know I support you and appreciate everything you've done for our people."

"I've been working like crazy the past few weeks, basically nonstop. But I'm restricted to daylight hours when we have electricity. If I had more time…"

"Of course!" Mayor Tai jumped up, clapping her hands. "You are more than welcome to set up a workspace in my basement. There's a guest entrance and everything. I'll leave it unlocked for you!"

And that was exactly the way their arrangement worked. Kurt needed something, the mayor gave it to him, and in return, he kept her town fed and happy.

It hasn't taken them long to work out this system. Kurt and the mayor got along famously, united in the same goal.

Years ago, as soon as Kurt and Burt made the pact to never go hungry again, they devised their plan. Kurt would use his talent for designing and making clothing (though they'd leave out the designing part) to open a stall in the market, and Burt would use his current auto parts business, and they would make enough money to buy enough food for the whole community. The problem was twofold, though.

First was the law limiting how much income a Low Class family could make. After a certain amount (which was just enough to underfeed their family of two), the Hummels had to turn over the rest of their income to the bank.

Second was their lack of quality materials. There was nothing setting them apart from the other markets in Ohio without better materials, and therefore nobody would be drawn into their market or offer high prices for their goods.

The issue was an endless loop: they didn't have nice enough materials to rack up interest in their market because they didn't have enough money to buy them, but when they earned enough to buy better materials, they had to turn it in, and were back to where they started.

The turning point came when the old, grumpy mayor of their town was replaced with Naomi Tai. She immediately took a liking to the Hummels, and her compassion and concern for her people was clear from day one.

Very carefully (and with multiple backup plans), Kurt and Burt approached her. After a long, emotional meeting behind locked doors, the three of them had come to an agreement.

Naomi would turn a blind eye to the money Kurt and Burt were making (and the fact that Kurt was designing his own clothes), and would use her higher Class status to purchase materials with their money.

It wasn't a month later that their market started drumming up interest. They drew visitors from hours away, coming to buy Kurt's masterfully crafted clothes that were made from finer fabrics than any others around. Burt's auto repair business took off as well, gaining a reputation for good service with long-lasting, quality made parts.

The income started piling in, and soon there was enough for them to begin buying extra food.

Every evening, Kurt (or Burt when Kurt was away at school) cooked up pots and pots of food, and fed lines of neighbors, who thanked Kurt with kisses on the cheek and professions of endless gratitude.

There was almost nothing Kurt could do that would ever make him prouder than what he was doing for his community.

Putting an end to his reminiscing, Kurt left the mayor's house and headed toward his market stand to get it ready for the day.

He removed the canvas cover from his table and organized the clothes just how he wanted them, adding the pair of pants he had made the previous day. The pants were a vibrant red, cuffed at the bottom, and exactly Blaine's size.

Kurt looked away from them quickly as tears threatened to spill over. He couldn't stop himself from wondering for the hundredth time if Blaine had sought out a seamstress to make the clothes that Kurt had designed for him.

"Good morning!" A familiar voice came from behind him, and Kurt turned to see his best friend Sam Evans sidling up to his own stall, which neighbored Kurt's. Sam and his family made instruments, and their stand was the next most popular after Kurt's.

A few years ago, Sam and his family had moved from the next town over after Sam had been selling his body and one particular client became a little crazed and violent. When the Evans family arrived in Kurt's town and Kurt told Sam that he would never have to sell himself again to help feed his parents and little siblings, Sam broke down and wept tears of joy in front of Kurt. They forged an instant connection, and though they attended different Academies, they always came back to each other in the summers as if no time had passed between them.

Sam was a great friend who Kurt could always count on for a shoulder to lean on or a good laugh, even if Kurt didn't always understand his references. Sam was the only person apart from his father who Kurt had told about Blaine, and even then, he'd only skated over the details. But boy was it nice for Kurt to feel like he had someone else in his corner.

The market opened at 8:00am. Visitors started trickling in shortly after. Since it was a Saturday, they expected huge crowds. Between Kurt's stinging wit (not to mention his popular wares) and Sam's impressions and bad jokes, the area around their stalls was always flooded with people of all Classes.

By the afternoon, Kurt had almost sold out of what he had in stock. The pair of red Blaine pants still remained, as if taunting him. He reached his left hand across his chest and over his right shoulder to lay across his tattoo. He closed his eyes, drawing the strength to continue on from the memory of Blaine.

Kurt brushed dust off of his worn skinny jeans and short sleeve button-up shirt. He was thankful that he could make his own clothing, but he cringed to wear nice new things out at the market where they would inevitably be covered in a thin layer of dust.

Sam was in the middle of an impression of the former Chancellor (Blaine's grandfather), who had a very distinct voice and mannerisms, when Kurt noticed a clear parting in the crowd, heads craning toward something, and quiet whispers directed toward whatever it was.

Kurt followed the path the crowd had created. His heart leapt out of his chest. Right there, wearing a Kurt Hummel original outfit and laughing happily with his arm linked with a handsome Asian man, was Blaine.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ohhh boy. Here it is! The chapter. But the story is far from over.  
> I wanted it to be perfect for you. I hope you think it is. It's a bit of a roller coaster, so strap in!  
> Last week I posted A new one shot, Let Your Flames Rise. Go read it if that's your kind of thang. ;)  
> Thank you as always for your feedback. It makes me a better writer and I am so grateful. Xoxo

After their short car ride together, Blaine was feeling quite a bit lighter with Wes at his side making him laugh. He jokingly held out an arm, which Wes took, and they walked together toward the supposed "best" market around. As always, and without even noticing he was doing it anymore, Blaine kept one eye on the goods, and one eye on the crowd for any sign of Kurt. Wes had been correct, this was a fantastic market. One of the best Blaine had ever seen. It may have been the items the people were selling, but he thought it was more likely the people themselves that set this market apart. The vendors here seemed more lively than those in other Low Class communities for some reason, and it made all the difference. He made a mental note to come back here regularly. They walked through the crowd, which parted easily for Blaine, strangers' eyes trained on his face and on his arm in Wes'. Speculation began immediately among bystanders about whether or not Wes was Blaine's boyfriend. It didn't really bother Blaine, though. Reporters had been doing the same thing with every male friend he was seen with in public since he turned fourteen.

A stand near the entrance to the market caught his eye with its scented candles. One particular candle that smelled like vanilla and coffee beans reminded him overwhelmingly of Kurt. Blaine purchased the candle, if only to keep it in his pocket and smell it when he needed to recall the memory of Kurt. The scent soothed him, but at the same time, was a stinging reminder of what he had lost.

Walking away from the stand with mixed emotions in his heart, Wes turned him in a different direction.

The world seemed to freeze.

Blaine stopped dead in his tracks. His heart stuttered and halted in his chest. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. After a month of nonstop searching, the missing piece of his heart was 20 feet ahead of him. _Kurt_. He looked different. And what was he doing back behind that market stall?

Kurt hadn't noticed him yet. Blaine pushed down the urge to scream Kurt's name at the top of his lungs and go barreling through the crowd into Kurt's arms.

Wes pulled on his arm to get his attention. Blaine knew Wes had been speaking to him, but he couldn't make out any specific words over the buzzing in his head.

"W-w-what..." Blaine stammered. His gaze was transfixed straight ahead, willing Kurt to look at him.

As if in a dream, Blaine drifted slowly toward Kurt. In what seemed like slow motion, Kurt looked up and locked eyes with Blaine. After a split second of shock, Kurt's face, his beautiful, lovely, perfect face, gave nothing away.

Blaine approached the table in front of Kurt tentatively, as though he were afraid any quick movements would cause Kurt to run away.

Their eyes drilled into each other's, Blaine's conveying a flood of emotions, Kurt's unreadable. Blaine scanned Kurt's dusty face and body for any signs of injury or illness, any reason for his abrupt disappearance, but found nothing obvious. Blaine started to reach out, still a few feet away from Kurt, when Wes spoke. Their arms had come unlinked in Blaine's attempt to get to Kurt.

"Wow. Found a guy you want to take home?" Wes winked, trying to get a rise out of him.

But Blaine couldn't form a coherent response. "I...uh...no." His hand dropped limply to his side.

Kurt's turned his nose up, face set. When he spoke, his voice was firm. "Good, because I'm not for sale."

Blaine's heart ached. Kurt had every last one of his defenses up. Blaine wanted to steal him away from this place, reassure him, love him, kiss him senseless until the walls came back down.

He tore his eyes away from Kurt for the first time, looking around the stall in front of which he was standing, aware that dozens of market goers had their eyes on him. A stunning pair of red pants sat nearby, and he reached out to touch them. They were made from a soft, luxurious material, and upon holding them up, Blaine knew they were just his size, and that, without a doubt, Kurt had designed them. He reached in his pocket and pulled out a one hundred dollar bill and the gold-dipped rose with it, handing both items over to Kurt.

Kurt refused to take the money, though his eyes lingered on the rose.

The world around them had become a blur in the background. Something cracked in Kurt's façade.

"They're not worth that much," he whispered quietly, staring at Blaine's offering incredulously.

" _I_ think they are," Blaine defended. Kurt lifted his arm robotically to accept the money and the rose, and Blaine saw, for the first time, the dirty yellow band around his wrist. He gasped, the whole crazy scenario becoming cemented in reality.

Everything sank in for Blaine at that moment. Kurt was Low Class. He lived here. He sold his clothes at the market. He had probably had first-hand experience facing the extreme adversity he so often protested. Blaine hadn't been able to find him because he was looking in all the wrong places. Their Class difference was supposed to be the defining characteristic of their relationship. But none of it mattered to Blaine.

Kurt's eyes darted to the ground, suddenly unable to look at Blaine or the rose. He pulled his hand back sharply, leaving the money and the flower in Blaine's outstretched hand.

A shockingly blond boy that Blaine didn't recognize came up behind Kurt, put a hand on his shoulder, and whispered something in his ear. Kurt nodded and backed away, disappearing into the mass of people in the market without so much as a look back at Blaine.

Blaine tried watching Kurt, tried running after him, but Wes held him back.

"Let me go! I have to go to him! That's _Kurt_ , you idiot!" Blaine tried wriggling out of his hold.

"Oh. Oh! Oh, shit." Wes' mind scurried to assimilate this new information, but his grip on Blaine never loosened. He dropped his voice to a whisper. "Blaine, you _can't_. You're not allowed to talk to him like that."

Blaine, defeated, gave up his struggle and stared into the crowd at the spot where Kurt disappeared for a few minutes before moving forward again. He had finally found Kurt, and he would not let him slip through his fingers for a second time.

"Help me find him," Blaine commanded fiercely.

He and Wes walked up and down the aisles of the market, looking for where Kurt could have gone. Blaine knew Kurt tended to flee to quiet, secluded corners when he was upset, and a while later, Blaine finally spotted a tall, lean figure in a secluded, dimly lit alleyway.

"Kurt!" He called, rushing toward the figure and leaving Wes at the entrance to the alley as a lookout.

Kurt was facing away from Blaine, and he spoke to the wall. "Please leave, Blaine." He sounded absolutely, heart wrenchingly demoralized.

Blaine stopped a few feet away, looking at Kurt's back. "Are you okay?"

"What do you think? Of course I'm not!" Kurt's biting tone rang out shrilly.

Blaine sighed, his frustration growing. "I mean are you safe? Healthy?"

"Yes."

He hadn't thought that finding out Kurt was okay would have this effect on him. He thought he would be relieved. Instead, the anger rose up in Blaine, threatening to burst out. "And your father?"

"Yes."

"Then Jesus Christ, Kurt, there is no excuse for what you did to me!" His voice rose as the anger took hold. He saw Kurt's spine go rigid, trying to hold in his emotions. "How could you just leave me like that? No note, no clue as to where you were or if you were okay...I was worried sick about you! I've been searching for you from the day you left, but I didn't even know your last name! This has been the worst month of my life, Kurt, being without you and not knowing. Was it all just a big joke to you? Did our time together mean nothing to you? Was it even real? Did you even really love me? Is that blond boy your boyfriend?"

"Stop being ridiculous, Blaine," Kurt spoke over his shoulder, the tremor in his voice betraying him.

"Then what? How am I supposed to know? How should I know anything when you don't ever tell me what's going on?! What the hell could possibly justify how you left me?"

Kurt held up his fist over his shoulder, drawing Blaine's attention to the band on his wrist.

"You see this yellow thing around my arm? And that purple one around yours? They mean that we can't even speak to each other. What we're doing right now is illegal. I couldn't…" He trailed off, choking back a sob. He braced himself against the wall in front of him with one hand, hanging his head.

Blaine instinctively took another step toward him, wanting to comfort him. His heart couldn't take watching Kurt so broken like this. It fractured and splintered into a thousand tiny pieces that were irreversibly tied to the similarly shattered shards of Kurt's heart. Blaine's anger had crumbled and morphed into something else entirely. Sadness. Respect, maybe? A little bit of pity. The deepest empathy. And pain. So much pain. Kurt had been living with the knowledge that they would be separated for months now, and though he had once fought falling in love with Blaine because he knew the horrible, inevitable ending, he gave in anyway. Every time Blaine mentioned the future, it must have killed him. God, Kurt was so strong and so much more indestructible than Blaine ever realized. Everything came into perspective now. There was no anger anymore. They were just two people who loved each other and who were unbelievably hurt by seemingly unendurable circumstances. Blaine took another step forward so that he was only half a foot from Kurt's back. He focused on the spot where he could see the faint lines of Kurt's tattoo through the thin fabric of his shirt. Blaine now understood just how much that tattoo meant. His voice was quiet and shaky when he spoke.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Would it have changed things?" Kurt responded in a thick, resigned voice. He already knew the answer.

Blaine considered for a moment. "Yes," he admitted, though he did not elaborate on what it would have changed, or how.

Kurt nodded, unsurprised. "I just wanted to live out our relationship to the fullest without anything interfering."

"So you carried the entire burden yourself?"

"Wasn't it worth it? To have all of you? If I could do it all again, I wouldn't change a single thing. But the reason I never told you, and why I left...it's selfish. It's because...whatever look you have on your face right now, the look when you've finally figured out what I am, that you can't have me and don't want me anymore, that's the look I couldn't bear to see."

Blaine paused. His heart was pulling toward Kurt, _screaming_ for him.

"You'll never know what look is on my face unless you turn around and see it for yourself."

Slowly, Kurt turned around to face Blaine and raised his head. It was almost comical, the way his eyes bugged out of his head. Kurt was shocked to see Blaine looking at him in the way he always had - a mixture of admiration and adoration.

"Kurt," Blaine leaned forward slightly. "I love you unconditionally." His words were Kurt's breaking point. He watched as the boy in front of him crumpled, overcome with emotion. Kurt sank to the ground, covering his face with his hands, tears flowing freely. "That means regardless of what comes between us, or where you come from, or whether or not it is 'allowed.' I love you so much that I haven't been able to breathe properly this past month. So much that I haven't felt whole until I saw you today. Nothing and no one can change that." He fell to his knees next to Kurt and tried to wrap his arms around him, but Kurt jerked back, jumping to his feet.

"Don't, Blaine. You can't possibly want me anymore. Look at me." Kurt turned his palms up, and he seemed to shrink in on himself under Blaine's stare. "My hair looks awful because I don't have the money to pay for the products I need, my clothes are old and worn and dirty, I'm covered head-to-toe in dust! I don't want you to see me like this." He covered his face with his hands again.

To his surprise, Blaine laughed.

Kurt peeked out from behind the protective screen he had made, feeling horrified. "How can you laugh? Nothing about this is funny!" Kurt yelled, but the amused, loving look never died in Blaine's eyes.

"Be real, Kurt. You think a little dirt is going to stop me from thinking you're attractive? I've seen you so drunk you've wrapped yourself around the toilet like it's your lifeline. I've seen you straight out of bed, so hungover you can hardly function. I've seen you crying so hard there's snot running down your face. I've seen you bedridden with the flu, a sickly shade of green, your sweat soaking my bedsheets. And even then, when you think you're at your worst, I think you're perfect. Baby, you're beautiful to me all the time." Blaine reached forward again, but Kurt evaded his touch once more.

Kurt could hardly speak through the tears. "B-but th-those were isolated incidents. This. This is my life now. This is who I am."

Blaine sighed and made a split-second decision.

He ran his fingers through his hair, setting his curls free of their gel prison and causing the tresses to stick out at all angles. He bent down to scoop up handfuls of dirt off the ground. He ran a dirty hand through his unruly curls, then rubbed dirt over his cheeks, forehead, and nose.

"What the hell are you doing?"

Blaine dirtied up his bare arms as he spoke. "I'm proving to you that it doesn't matter. It doesn't matter what you look like or what you come from or how clean you are. Do you still find me attractive?"

To Blaine's immense relief, Kurt smiled through his tears.

"Of course I do. But you're insane! Fortunately for you, I find insanity to be a desirable quality in a man."

Blaine started to reach for his pants to wipe off his dirty hands, but Kurt shrieked. "Blaine Anderson! Don't you dare wipe dirt on those gorgeous clothes I designed just for you!"

Blaine smirked evilly and gave Kurt a defiant stare as he wiped his hands directly on his clothes, leaving behind dirty handprints.

A thrill ran through him as Kurt laughed, wiping snot and tears from his face with his shirt.

Blaine turned pleading eyes on Kurt. "Now please, for the love of all that is holy, can I kiss you already?"

In lieu of an answer, Kurt leapt on Blaine, nearly knocking him to the ground. He wrapped his legs around Blaine's hips and their lips met in a long overdue reunion. Blaine, mind swimming with the feel of Kurt, the scent of Kurt, the taste of Kurt, walked forward until Kurt was half-resting on a barrel that had been placed against the wall of a building.

They had gone too long without each other. They were starving. Hands clawed to find their way beneath shirts, to touch more skin, more skin, _more_. Tongues delved into mouths and along jaws and behind ears. Hips rolled in a sensual rhythm, sounds escaped throats without permission.

Faster than he could process, Blaine's hands had pulled Kurt's shirt over one arm. He must have decided that taking Kurt's clothes all the way off would take too much of their precious time, though, because he abandoned the shirt and started kissing his way down Kurt's stomach.

Every kiss, every nip, every brush of fingertips brought so much heat it burned. With every touch, Kurt whined, biting his own hand to stop himself from crying out. He was finally back where he belonged. With Blaine. The unexpectedness and intensity of their reunion heightened his sensitivity to an almost unbearable level. He was so hard against Blaine's stomach that he was in danger of coming if Blaine so much as raised an eyebrow at him.

"Pants, Blaine," he whispered raggedly, urgently in Blaine's ear.

Blaine took the hint and started unfastening his pants as Kurt did the same to his.

Kurt was so lost to his passion that he didn't care that Blaine's bodyguard or whoever he was was just down the alleyway from them. He didn't care that anyone could walk in and find them utterly indecent and in the midst of ravishing each other. He almost didn't care that what they were doing was illegal.

_What they were doing was illegal._

Suddenly, as Blaine pushed his own briefs down just enough for his cock to spring free, laughter bubbled up inside of Kurt. He tried to stop it, knowing how inappropriate it was in this moment, but he was completely helpless to it.

Blaine's face reddened, and he self-consciously pulled his pants back up, eyeing Kurt with questions and a little bit of defensiveness.

"Being laughed at is not exactly what a guy wants when he takes his pants down, Kurt."

But Kurt could not stem the flow of the hysterical laughter bursting its way out of his mouth. Blaine was looking at him like he was crazy.

"No, no, it's not you. You know how sexy I think you are. I'm sorry. It's just...Blaine, we're not allowed to do this. It's against the law. Just for talking to me, you could...I don't know...impose a fine upon yourself or arrest yourself or something." Kurt howled with laughter. Blaine didn't laugh. He vaguely wondered if Kurt was heading for some kind of mental breakdown. He wasn't sure what to do so he waited it out, watching worriedly, keeping his arms tight around Kurt until the laughs turned back into heaving sobs. "How will we ever make this work?" Kurt whispered, distraught.

Blaine took Kurt's face in his hands and pulled his focus to his eyes. Kurt gulped the steamy air between them. His crying calmed somewhat at the warm feeling of Blaine's hands on his face.

"Do you trust me?"

Kurt nodded. "Implicitly."

Blaine glowed. "Then believe me when I say I will find a way." Kurt nodded with resolve. He sighed in relief, knowing that Blaine would continue to fight for them. "Now get your perfect little mouth back over here and kiss the hell out of me," Blaine growled. Kurt complied instantly. The kiss this time, though, was slow burning and full of love rather than lust.

Blaine broke the kiss and pulled Kurt into a tight hug. He sucked lightly at the skin on Kurt's neck where his lips were.

"You know, you didn't really answer my question from earlier."

Kurt wracked his brain, trying to recall their conversation. "What question?"

Blaine was glad Kurt was wrapped around him and couldn't see the embarrassment on his face. "That blond guy. Is he your boyfriend?" Blaine's heart sped up waiting for Kurt's answer. It _would_ explain why Kurt never wanted to be called Blaine's boyfriend. He suddenly regretted asking. Maybe he didn't want to know the answer.

Kurt pulled back and stared at him like he'd grown two extra heads. "Sam? No. Of course he's not. God, Blaine, don't you have any faith in me? I could be asking you the same thing about…" he gestured wildly toward where Wes was waiting, his back turned to them, at the opening of the alley.

"Wes," Blaine provided.

"...About Wes, but I'm not. Because I trust you, and I know he's not your boyfriend."

Blaine narrowed his eyes. "But you don't _knoooow_ that. You've been MIA for the last month. Anything could have happened." He attempted to shrug without cracking a smile.

Rolling his eyes and shoving Blaine playfully, Kurt scoffed. "Shut the fuck up, Blaine."

Blaine laughed and hugged Kurt again. They embraced for a while, neither willing to let go of the other, before Kurt spoke again.

"But he's not, right?"

This time, it was Blaine who dissolved into hysterical laughter.

When he recovered, he kissed Kurt on the temple. "I only have eyes for you, Kurt. You're my only one. For as long as I live. I still want you. Of course I do. I love you. I want you. I love you. I want you. I will tell you that every single day if that's what you need. We will find a way."

"I love you so much it hurts," Kurt murmured, wrapping himself around Blaine tightly.

"I know. But it won't have to hurt forever." Blaine's chin was hooked over Kurt's shoulder, just above the _YES_ tattoo, which he ran his fingers over. It really did feel like home in Kurt's arms.

"Have some decency, boys!" Came a man's voice, startling Blaine and Kurt and breaking their embrace. Blaine hurried to fix his shirt and refasten the button on his pants, looking around to see who had spoken. He hadn't realized how scandalous they looked - Kurt's shirt off of one shoulder only, both of their pants undone, undeniable sex hair, dirt smeared on both of their faces.

"Jesus fuck, dad, give a guy some warning!" Kurt buried his face in Blaine's shoulder. Blaine was so flustered he barely processed the "language, Kurt," comment that came from the older man.

Blaine jumped back upon realizing Kurt's father (whom he had never met before) had just caught him in the act of defiling his only son. He remembered too late that he had been supporting most of Kurt's weight, and Kurt went toppling off the barrel most ungracefully. Blaine lunged at the last second and caught Kurt before he hit the ground.

Burt fought hard to hold back an amused chuckle as he tried to maintain a menacing look meant to intimidate Blaine.

After Kurt had been righted, Blaine straightened up and turned to Burt, face burning.

A moment passed where both Burt and Blaine seemed hesitant to address each other after years of being conditioned not to hold personal conversations with people outside of their own Classes.

That moment passed quickly, though, and Blaine started babbling. "I swear I'm more dignified than that, normally. I am so sorry. This is _not_ how I wanted to meet you." Blaine held out his hand and approached Burt, who was still scowling.

Kurt watched the fascinating power exchange unfold between the two men he loved most in the world.

Cracks appeared in Blaine's usual commanding presence as he approached Burt. Blaine may have been in a position of power, but Burt was his elder, and Kurt's father.

Burt, always easy going and sure of himself, seemed to be trying harder than usual to loom largely. Because even though Blaine was eighteen and the boy his son was dating, Blaine was also a Councilman and an upper Class citizen.

Their hands finally touched. "Very nice to meet you, sir," Blaine said firmly.

"It's an honor, sir," Burt responded.

An awkward moment passed that became even more awkward when Blaine said, "Please, call me Blaine."

Burt fought a laugh as he recognized the ridiculousness of their reversed dialogue. "You can stick with sir for me," he told Blaine with a hard stare, though he was smirking on the inside. "So, Blaine, care to explain why I came to get Kurt and found you taking advantage of my sweet, innocent boy?"

Blaine spluttered, floundering for the right response. He looked to Kurt, who only wore a neutral expression, arms crossed over his chest and legs kicking the barrel he was now fully seated on.

"Sir, I never meant to...I wouldn't...I am so sorry that you had to see us lose control like that. I promise I love your son more than anything-"

"Do you think that just because you're the famous Blaine Anderson that you can get away with this?"

Blaine's face could have burst into flames.

"No, sir, absolutely not. I would never use my position for that."

"Good. Because if I hear that you so much as lay a finger on my son, nothing can protect you. Not even your name."

Thankfully, Kurt spoke up from his seat. "Oh my god, dad, leave the poor kid alone. I already told you how _I_ stole _his_ virtue, remember? I'm not the innocent one here."

Kurt's voice joked, but Blaine wanted to sink through the floor. His own father would never be caught dead talking about sex with him so casually. Also, he never ever wanted to discuss his sex life with his boyfriend's father. Like, it was on his list of top ten things never to do.

His head was reeling from the abrupt turn their conversation had taken. Kurt didn't seem worried, so Blaine tried to channel some of that calm before he fainted.

"Careful, Kurt, he's as white as a sheet. Don't make him pass out, now," Burt's scowl turned to a smile.

Blaine's lower lip was trembling despite his attempts to make it stop. He was desperate for Burt to see his true intentions. "Sir, I'm not what you think, I promise. I'm not taking advantage of Kurt and I'm _not_ like my father. Please un-"

"Blaine." Burt cut him off by hugging him, taking him by total surprise. Not that anything that had happened so far today was expected. "I was just messing with you. Kurt has explained everything to me. Son, I can't tell you how grateful I am to you for making Kurt happy in his last few months at Dalton. And the risks you're willing to take, the lengths you're willing to go to to stand up for not only your relationship with Kurt, but for our equality as a whole...you'll never know how much I appreciate and respect that." Blaine was looking bewilderedly between Kurt and Burt. He had never in a million years expected Burt to accept him wholeheartedly.

"There are no secrets between the two of us," Kurt explained, shrugging.

By the time Blaine recovered from the shock of the whole thing, Burt was just looking at him amusedly.

"I...uh...th-thank you, sir. You've done the most marvelous job raising Kurt. He's the most amazing person I've ever met. I love him beyond what I ever thought possible. I swear I'll always do right by him, sir."

Burt smiled knowingly - he'd seen the same lovestruck look in his son's eyes when he spoke of Blaine too.

"Uh...Blaine?" Burt asked. "Why are you covered in dirt?"

Kurt laughed happily. "He decided to get...creative…in proving a point to me. It worked, if you were wondering."

Burt held up his hands. "Was not. And I will not ask. It was very nice to meet you, Blaine. I hope that one day we can do this in public. By the way, Blaine, you don't really have to call me sir. Burt will do just fine." Burt squeezed Blaine's shoulder, a paternal gesture Blaine was unused to. "I'll give you two a couple more minutes, but then you're needed inside, Kurt. It's time."

Kurt jumped off his barrel and took Burt's place, facing Blaine.

"You told your dad that we have sex?!" Blaine asked immediately. He ignored the chuckle from Burt's retreating figure.

Kurt shrugged again. "Like I said. No secrets. Don't worry about it, Blaine. He is a fierce protector when it comes to me, but I've told him everything about you. He trusts my judgment. He knows you're a good one."

Blaine was slightly placated. "He seems really great, Kurt. I can see why you love him so much. So...can I come see your house?"

Kurt's eyes widened and he shook his head vehemently. "No! You have to go. Now, actually."

"Why?" Blaine whined unattractively. "Does this have to do with that not-exactly-legal thing you won't tell me about?"

"Yep. And that's not going to change. Now come on. Let's get you out of here."

"Can I come back? Every Saturday?"

"Please do," Kurt fell into his arms.

"I promise I will always be here." Blaine pulled the rose that Kurt had left at his market stand out of his pocket and handed it to Kurt, who happily took it, immediately pressing it to his face. "You'll never have to go without one again. I'm so glad I found you."

"I'm so glad you never stopped looking."

There were so many questions that went unasked and unanswered, so many problems left to work out, but those could all wait. Blaine hugged Kurt one last time for the night, and kissed him long enough and hard enough to last until their next meeting.

They whispered I love yous and finally broke apart. As Blaine walked away, fighting his heart that was trying to pull him backward, Kurt called out to him. There was joy and hope in his voice for the first time all day.

"Hummel."

Blaine wheeled around, confused at the nonsense coming from Kurt's mouth.

"My name is Kurt Hummel."

\---

In the distance, a man tucked his camera away, pleased with what he had captured.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe I'm saying this, but only four chapters left! :( I will miss this story! 
> 
> On another note, my one shot obsession continues...I shared One Last Dance last Friday. Go read it, if that's your thang. And bring tissues. Seriously.
> 
> Peace and love to every last one of you.

  
**_Resistance Times_ **

**Massive Resistance March Planned**

What: Class inequality protest

When: August 2, 1:00 pm

Where: Council Building

Who: As many Resistance supporters as possible from around the nation

Why: To be the catalyst for change

\---

Like clockwork, Blaine showed up to meet Kurt at exactly 10:00 pm every Saturday. He was the punctual one, after all. But even Kurt was on time for their meetings. Early, sometimes. It was the highlight of both of their weeks.

They would spend all night talking and laughing and holding each other, trying to fit an entire week of togetherness in one evening. Kurt would haul some old blankets and pillows out to the alley by his house, where he and Blaine would sit pressed close together for hours. Thankfully the building next to the Hummel house was abandoned, so their whispers and low conversations didn't attract attention

Over the weeks, the boys asked and answered every unresolved question they had. (So who exactly is Sam? _He's my best friend. Yes, other than you. Oh, come on, Blaine, of course you're my best friend_...Who is Wes, and why is he always lurking around? _Wes is not a lurker! He is my personal assistant. Shut up, it is not the worst job in the world_...If you're not High Class, then how did you learn to sing like that? _My mother was. She descended because she was in love with my dad. Stop. Don't even ask. We've already had this discussion_...What do your parents think of you using your inheritance to buy food for Low Class communities? _They think I'm crazy. But I'm learning to put less stock in what they think. I know, I know, newsflash_.)

Despite having the cards stacked against them, Kurt and Blaine made it work the best they could. They both craved more, though. More of sharing their souls, more of the closeness they had grown accustomed to at Dalton, more of each other.

"I'm so proud of you," Kurt nuzzled into Blaine's side one night.

"For what?" Blaine sounded surprised. "I haven't done anything."

"That's not true at all. You're helping feed people who have been hungry their whole lives. You're on the Council, actively speaking out against inequality. You're planting the seed in the minds of the people who have the decision-making power. And you're realizing that your worth isn't dependent on what your parents think of you. That's everything, Blaine."

Blaine nodded, understanding. He squeezed Kurt closer to him. "I'm just glad that someone was around to help me realize that my thoughts are important too."

"And I'm just glad you believed that someone when he told you. Thank you for keeping your promises. Thank you for fighting for us. Thank you for making us a priority."

"The highest," Blaine cooed, kissing Kurt on the nose and stroking his fingertips down Kurt's neck.

"I would really like to fuck you right now," Kurt told him, a yearning feeling pulling at him.

Blaine groaned. They hadn't engaged in any sexual escapades since the night before graduation. Even under the cover of night, it would be imprudent to put themselves in such a vulnerable and exposed position. But the lack of sexual intimacy was making them both edgy and clingy.

"I promise you will be able to soon." A look of longing crossed Blaine's face. Then, a flash of recognition. "Kurt! I just realized...there _is_ a way we can be together!"

Kurt raised an eyebrow skeptically, but he let Blaine go on anyway.

"I can hire you. And your dad. You can be my landscapers or maintenance guys or something. You'll be able to live in my house! I don't know why I didn't think of this before!"

Silence.

"Kurt?" Blaine, ecstatically thinking of all of the possibilities of having Kurt live under his roof, glanced up to see that Kurt's face did not match his own excited one.

"Do you understand anything about me, Blaine?" Uh oh. Kurt sounded angry. "There's no way I would ever agree to that. It would be like hiding and submitting to society's rules. I don't want to find a loophole, I want to be with you for real. I can't believe you would think this was a good idea!"

Blaine backed down immediately, but he deflated a little, watching his visions of having Kurt around 24/7 dissipate. He held his hands up in a show of surrender. "I'm sorry! I didn't realize it would offend you! I just...the idea of having you live with me...I could kiss you whenever I want...talk to you every day about what's going on in my life and not just save the highlights for our Saturdays...you can't blame me for being drawn in by that vision."

Kurt sighed wistfully. "Someday. You're right. I don't blame you for that. I'm sorry for taking out my anger at our fucked up societal constructs on you."

"You're forgiven."

Then, as they did every Saturday, they held each other and kissed and kissed until the sun started to peek over the horizon.

\---

Following Blaine's departure, Kurt dipped back into his house to nap for a couple of hours until he had to be back out at his market stand.

His clothes had been attracting more attention than ever, and earning him more money than he thought he would ever see. Well, except for the times he let himself fantasize about marrying Blaine and being so rich he wouldn't know what to do with it all. He could only imagine that this new surge of business had to do with Blaine talking him up in his social circles. He hoped Blaine was being subtle, at least.

Even though Kurt was pleased with his business and his ability to provide for his friends and neighbors, he was tired. If he wasn't selling in the market or cooking for his neighbors, he was sewing. He stayed up until all hours of the night making clothes just to keep up with the demands of his customers. Saturday was the only day he rested, and even then he was up until dawn with Blaine. Kurt needed a break, but he would never admit it.

After his few short hours of sleep, he rolled out of bed, grumbling. He thanked Burt, who had forced him to wake up.

Sam was already waiting for him outside, streaks of dust already decorating his blond hair. "Good morning, Kurtis. You look tired."

Kurt rubbed a hand across his eyes. "First of all, how many times do I have to tell you? Kurt is not short for Kurtis! Second, that is offensive and a thinly veiled insult. You might as well tell me I look like shit."

"Well, you kind of do," Sam shrugged. "As your best friend, it is my duty to be real with you. I will not sugarcoat anything."

"Should I put more concealer under my eyes? Fix my hair? Change my shirt?"

"There's no helping you."

" _Samuel_!" Kurt shoved him.

Sam was laughing so hard he almost had to sit down. Getting Kurt worked up was one of his favorite pastimes. He was just such an easy target.

"Relax, Kurt. Even on your worst day, you look better than anyone else."

Kurt was touched. "Oh my goodness, that is simultaneously the sweetest and gayest thing you've ever said to me!"

Sam put an arm around his friend's shoulder. "Don't get used to it. Hey...how is Operation Swizzlestick going?"

Kurt rolled his eyes as Sam's nickname for his secret rendezvous with Blaine. "I don't know why you insist on calling it that. It is literally the least discreet name you could have chosen."

"That's what makes it such a good name. Nobody will take it seriously."

"Well, you would know about people not taking things seriously. Guess I have no choice but to trust you."

"Ha, ha."

"It's going okay. Don't get me wrong, I am beyond happy to have Bla-Swizzlestick in my life, and I will happily take any time I can spend with him. It just always feels rushed and like we're waiting for someone to throw us a bone, but one will never come. I just want to live my life with him, you know? And Sam, you're a guy, you'll understand…I haven't gotten off with my man in over two months!"

"Ewwwww, Kurt, whyyyy?!" Sam cringed thinking about his best friend's sex life.

Suddenly, a warm and familiar presence was behind Kurt. He spun around to see Blaine standing there.

"Did I just hear you call me Swizzlestick?" Blaine joked in a whisper.

Kurt looked around to make sure nobody was watching them. Luckily, Sunday mornings were slow at the market, and the vendors were all chatting amongst themselves. He pretended to be showing Blaine a jacket just in case anyone spotted them together.

"That's embarrassing," Kurt flushed. "Forget you ever heard that. And the Swizzlestick thing was all Sam's idea."

"Kurt," Blaine's voice dropped even lower. "I'm feeling the same frustrations you are. That's why I'm here. I'm kidnapping you for the day."

Kurt looked so torn. "But I can't leave my stand-"

"I'll take over for you," Sam offered.

"And tonight, I can't-"

"Burt and I will take care of it."

"Sammy, you're the best!" Kurt hugged his friend. He turned back to Blaine.

"Meet me behind your dad's shop in fifteen minutes," Blaine told him before striding off with a renewed energy.

The second Blaine was out of sight, Kurt turned to Sam and grabbed his arms. "I look like shit! You have got to help me!"

Sam rolled his eyes. "Go wash your face, put on a nice outfit, dab some concealer under your eyes, and breakout the emergency hairspray. You'll be fine, Kurt. As much as it made me want to puke, I saw the look in his eyes. He loves you. And he wants in your pants. Badly."

Kurt half-laughed, half-snorted and ran off excitedly to get ready.

\---

Kurt and Blaine were snuggled together in the back seat of Blaine's car while an irritated Wes drove them to Blaine's house.

"You two know that I can hear _everything_ you're saying, right? I am so glad we're here. I'm taking the rest of the day off, Blaine. There's no way in hell I'm going in that house with you. You owe me double my paycheck this week for this," Wes grumbled. But Blaine could see the smile behind his eyes, and knew Wes was happy to see Blaine so in love and happy.

"Fine, whatever," Blaine waved him off, eyes trained on Kurt as they exited the car.

"You have got to be shitting me," Kurt was staring at the building they had pulled up to. "This is your house? Your one-person house? You have a fucking _fountain_ , Blaine. Jesus Christ, what do you do with all of this space? Train for marathons indoors?"

Blaine laughed at him, pulling him inside the house. "This was all my mother's doing. But forget about all of that, Kurt," He took the other man's hands. "This is completely private property. We can do whatever we want without the fear of being seen. I, for one, have been thinking about stripping you down and bending you over the pool table out back..." There was a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Kurt's eyes closed and his head tipped back. "Oh, Blaine," he groaned. "It's been so long. But…"

Blaine immediately recoiled at the thought of rejection.

Kurt latched on to Blaine's neck and sucked lightly at the skin there. "I would so much rather strip _you_ down and fuck _you_ over that couch."

Blaine let out a low moan. "Okay, yes, yes, you can have me. But I want to ride you in my office chair." He slipped his hands under Kurt's shirt and lightly traced his fingers over Kurt's ribs.

"Oh my god, Blaine. I want you in front of that giant mirror over there so you can see how hot you look when you're coming undone." Kurt slid a hand underneath Blaine's waistband and pawed at his ass.

Blaine's breaths were coming out in pants now. "Or how about we recreate that piano sex from our Dalton days?"

Kurt couldn't hold off any longer. He attacked Blaine's mouth and Blaine returned the kiss eagerly. They stumbled down the hall in a tangle of arms and tongues and clothes.

They ended up in the bedroom rather than any of their previous locale suggestions.

"Mmm, christening your bed. I like it," Kurt growled as he pounced on Blaine, knocking him back onto the sheets.

It had never been quite like this between the two of them before. It was needy and rough and moving so quickly that Blaine was naked before he even realized his clothes were coming off.

"Your body is so hot, Blaine. God, you're the sexiest thing I've ever seen." Kurt's eyes were wide and sparkled with desire as he removed what was left of his own clothing.

The slight softness that Kurt had sported while at Dalton was gone, and every muscle in his body was lean and defined. Blaine couldn't go another minute without touching him. He pulled Kurt down so that his body weight pressed down on him. Kurt's hands were everywhere. Blaine thought his lips and his ass and his hips might bruise from the pressure of Kurt's touch, but he only wanted Kurt to hold him tighter, closer, longer.

"I need you so badly," Blaine's voice was high and breathy. He was unraveling already under Kurt's capable hands.

Kurt licked a trail down blaine's neck, over his collarbone, across his torso, and down to take Blaine's cock in his mouth. Blaine instinctively bucked his hips up. He started to apologize, but Kurt had taken it with ease, and brushed him off. Kurt draped his forearm over Blaine's hips as a reminder to stay still.

Blaine wanted to watch Kurt's head bobbing between his legs, Kurt's lips stretching over his cock, Kurt's perfect body stretched out along his legs, but he could not manage to keep his eyes open. The pleasure was too overwhelming. He heard the sound of a bottle being uncapped and felt the sudden chill of Kurt's slicked up finger circling his hole.

"Ahh, Kurt, _Kurt_!" Blaine cried wantonly, struggling to keep his hips on the mattress. Kurt pushed a finger into Blaine slowly, drawing out the most beautiful string of nonsense from Blaine's mouth.

"You're so tight, baby," Kurt murmured before plunging back down on Blaine's pulsing cock. He hollowed his cheeks and treated Blaine to long, slow pulls.

"That's be-bec-because it's...mmm...been a while," Blaine stuttered as Kurt inserted another finger and crooked them just right. "Holy hell," Blaine moaned when Kurt found his sweet spot.

"I've missed how you taste, and how you sound for me, and how you look utterly wrecked when I'm doing this to you," Kurt whispered, brushing Blaine's prostate once again as his own cock twitched urgently against the sheets.

Blaine squirmed and cried out beneath him. "I'm not going to... _oh_...last very long if you keep talking like... _ahh_...that. Need you _now_.."

Kurt dutifully removed his fingers, leaving Blaine open and empty. He whined at the loss, but soon enough, Kurt was leaning up against the headboard and grabbing Blaine's hips to pull him on top of him. Blaine straddled Kurt and grabbed the bottle of lube from the bed next to them. He kissed Kurt hard while he spread the gel over Kurt's cock, eliciting sweet, sweet moans of pleasure from the other man.

Then, without warning, Blaine's hand was gone and replaced by his asshole, and he was fucking Kurt into the mattress.

"Shit! Blaine! Oh my god, don't stop!" Kurt bent his knees and planted his feet so that he could thrust up into Blaine, and grabbed at Blaine's hips to push him down harder and faster.

"Harder. Please!" was all Blaine could grunt out. Kurt obeyed. Sweat dripped from Blaine's neck as he worked Kurt over. His muscles strained to hold himself up. No sound filled the air but whines and moans until…

"I'm so close!" Blaine told Kurt, shifting to place his hands on Kurt's shoulders. Kurt wrapped his hand around Blaine's waiting cock, and started to jerk it in time to their rhythm.

"Kurt...yes…AHH!" Blaine came hard and fast between his and Kurt's stomachs.

"Baby, that's so hot," Kurt maintained his rhythm through Blaine's orgasm on his way to his own. Blaine leaned forward to suck at the sensitive spots on Kurt's neck, causing him to whimper in pleasure. "Yes, Blaine. _Ahh_ , Fuck, I'm coming!"

Blaine rode Kurt out until they were both quivering messes, then he pulled off and made quick work of cleaning up. In less than a minute, he was snuggling back into bed next to Kurt, who curled up in his arms.

"Wow."

"Wow."

"Wow."

"Best sex we've ever had?"

"Wow."

"That was everything. We needed that." Blaine sighed blissfully, his hands threading through Kurt's hair.

Kurt finally seemed to remember a word other than 'wow.' "Yeah, it was. It was so fucking hot, Blaine. I've never heard you so vocal before."

"You either. Everything you were saying turned me on so much. Plus, we have no reason to be quiet here."

"Mmm, maybe we can try it again later on that pool table you mentioned earlier, see just how loud we can be…"

Blaine massaged Kurt's scalp and watched his exhausted boy's eyes drift shut. "Maybe. But for now...a nap."

"No complaints here. Blaine?"

"Hmm?"

"I love you. And not just because of the mind-blowing sex."

Blaine laughed. "I love you too. But you have to admit…the mind-blowing sex is definitely a contributing factor."

"Definitely."

\---

Blaine couldn't stop thinking about his day with Kurt. He held onto the memories of the previous day as he sat down in a Council meeting. He would so much rather be in bed with Kurt than working.

After he and Kurt had woken up from their long nap, they had indeed tried again later on the pool table, and they figured out exactly how loud they could be. Then Blaine had fed Kurt leftovers that his personal chef had left him in the fridge, and the two had talked for hours while holding each other on the couch. Around midnight, Blaine finally forced himself to take Kurt home, but not before packing a bag full of hairspray and Kurt's favorite facial moisturizer to send home with him. He also tried to slip Kurt a cell phone, but that was where he drew the line. ( _I will not take that from you, Blaine. It's too much_.)

Blaine suddenly remembered a sleepy, post-sex conversation they had had yesterday.

_"What would you say if next Saturday, I brought food to your town?"_

_Kurt had an awkward look on his face, like he was trying to conceal something. "That's really sweet of you, Blaine, but I think you should take it somewhere else. Somewhere that needs it."_

_Blaine was confused. "I've never seen a Low Class village that had enough food for everyone. Are you telling me yours does?"_

_"Yes. Now let it go, Blaine."_

_But of course he couldn't. "How?"_

_Kurt shook his head and stared straight ahead._

_"Is this that thing we can't talk about?"_

_"Yes."_

_"Whatever you are doing that is illegal is providing enough food for your community?"_

_Kurt didn't answer. His lips were pressed into a hard line._

_"Does it have anything to do with you designing the clothes you make? Or the fact that you have the nicest fabrics I've ever seen for non-commissioned clothes?"_

_Kurt remained silent. His natural instinct was to ask Blaine not to tell anyone, but he knew his secret was safe._

_"Got it." Blaine seemed to be gloating that he'd finally worked part of it out. Then his expression softened. "Hey," he told Kurt, stroking his arm. "I don't know exactly how you're making it happen, but you're amazing and selfless for doing it."_

_Kurt broke his silence. "Flattery will not make me give up all of my secrets, Blaine Anderson."_

_"I never presumed it would, my beautiful, compassionate man."_

_"I cook dinner every night and serve it to everyone," he blurted out._

_"You're perfect."_

_"Am not."_

_"Are too."_

_"Yeah, well you think that_ Survivor _is quality television programming, so your opinion does not count."_

_"I did not admit that to you so that I could be mocked, Kurt Hummel!"_

_"I love it when you say my whole name," Kurt mooned, changing the subject._

_"One day we will share a last name."_

_"I hope that one day comes sooner rather than later."_

_"I'm working on it. Baby steps, Kurt."_

Snapping Blaine out of his thoughts, Mr. Anderson called the meeting to order.

"Good morning, Council members. The first item on the agenda today will be to revisit the punishment for breaking the Interclass Communication law. Councilman White, please present your thoughts to the Council."

A middle-aged, bulky man spoke up. Blaine hated when White talked. He and Blaine almost never saw eye-to-eye because White was so traditional and closed-minded. Blaine steeled himself for an argument.

White stared straight at Blaine when he spoke, a devious smile on his face. "Gentlemen, I believe that our current policy on interclass communication is far too lax. This law is one of the foundational pieces of our society. Without it, our world would fall apart. And what is the punishment we hand down for breaking it? A small fine.

"In my opinion, the consequences should be far stricter for such a serious offense. I propose doubling the fine, imposing publish lashes, and adding up to a year incarceration. Nobody should get off so easily for cavorting around with someone outside of their own Class." White finished speaking without once taking his eyes off of Blaine.

Blaine was sweating under his glare. Did this man know something? Even if his stare was a coincidence, Blaine couldn't let the Council pass this. Nobody deserved such a punishment. He got to his feet to counter, and the atmosphere in the room shifted as it always did when Blaine spoke. He closed his eyes briefly and channeled Kurt.

"Gentlemen, If I have not yet made my stance clear, let me state it plainly: the issue we should be discussing is not how to increase the penalty for interclass communication. What we should be discussing is how to change this archaic law to promote harmony between the Classes so that we may all work together to enhance the world we live in. My question to you is this: what harm is done when two people from separate Classes converse? The only purpose the law serves is to further segregate the Classes. There is no harm in two individuals speaking as equals."

"But they are not our equals," White challenged.

Blaine stood taller. He pictured what Kurt would say in this situation as he rounded on his adversary.

"That us/them mentality is precisely the problem. As much as you want to believe you are better than someone in the Middle or Low Class, there is no difference. We are all just human beings living our lives the best way we know how."

"Even if what you're saying is true, allowing interclass communication is just the first step on a slippery slope. If we give them communication, they'll want community integration. If we give them integration, they'll want marriage. Where do we draw the line?"

"Would that really be so bad? Why shouldn't we allow adults to apply for marriage ascent or descent?" An unsettled grumble ran through the Council. "I realize that today is not the day to discuss amending or repealing the law or any other, but it is something we will need to discuss soon. For today, please consider before you vote that it is my firm belief that increasing the penalty is not the answer. Instead of sliding backward, we must continue to move forward. Thank you."

Blaine caught his father's eye as he sat down. There was a strange mixture of indignation and pride in his eyes. But Blaine didn't dwell on it too much. He knew how proud Kurt would have been. He held that in his heart as he nervously awaited his father's call for the vote.

White's proposal failed fantastically.

\---

"Chancellor Anderson? A word, please?" White grabbed his attention after the last Council member filed out of the room.

"White, is this about that Low Class town again? I've told you before. We cannot investigate just because they are well-fed."

"But I've told you a hundred times. There is something else going on there. Something against the law. I swear it! Their market is impossibly popular."

"Forget it, White. It's not illegal to have enough food, nor is it illegal to have a popular market."

White took a deep breath, making a split-second decision. "Chancellor. If you continue to refuse to investigate, then I will have no choice but to release these photographs." He slid two photos of Blaine in a heated embrace with a boy whose face he couldn't make out. "That's a Low Class boy from the town in question, sir. It appears your son is up to no good."

The Chancellor sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, internally cursing Blaine.

"How did you get these?"

"Right place at the right time, sir."

"White…" Chancellor Anderson took possession of the photos. "Fine. I will get a team together to investigate. I will be destroying these. Stand down, White."

White smiled smugly, reclining in his chair. He was finally getting his way, after years of begging. All it took was a little blackmail. The Chancellor didn't need to know that another set of the photographs was on its way to the editor of _The Daily Edition_ already.

\---

Kurt dressed himself, preparing for market, and reliving his day with Blaine in his head. Even though it had been almost a week, the memories were still so fresh.

He thought back to his favorite part of the day.

_Kurt had been talking when he broke off with a gasp._

_Blaine had turned over onto his stomach, baring his back to Kurt for the first time that day. Kurt's fingers immediately flew up to Blaine's shoulder where dark ink marked his tan skin. In exactly the same spot as Kurt's tattoo, Blaine now had a rose dipped in gold._

_"Do you like it?" Blaine asked, suddenly nervous about what Kurt would think._

_"More than anything," Kurt breathed. "When did you get it?"_

_"Right after I got home. I needed you with me, and it was one more way I could feel connected to you. Plus it signifies the person I've become and what I believe in."_

_"You're amazing."_

_"You're amazing."_

_"We're amazing together."_

Kurt hummed happily to himself at the memory. Burt watched him get ready for the day with an amused smile. He loved seeing Kurt so happy and lovestruck, but he harbored some guilt knowing that Kurt didn't ascend to High Class (where Burt fully believed Kurt belonged) because of him. But Kurt was his son, and he had never known his son to regret a carefully thought out decision.

"Don't forget that it's Saturday, Kurt," Burt said as Kurt put a bowl of fruit and granola on the kitchen table in front of him.

"How could I possibly forget? I see Blaine tonight."

"That's not what I mean. The new edition of the _Resistance Times_ newspaper comes out today. Are you going to go grab one, or should I?"

"Oh!" Kurt jumped to his feet. "I'll get it."

He strolled down the street to the paperboy and casually said the codeword.

"Popcorn."

The boy, who wore a gold and red paper rose, held out a rolled up newspaper that Kurt knew was concealing a second smaller yet infinitely more valuable newspaper inside.

"Thank you!" He tipped the boy with fresh fruit, as he did every Saturday.

Kurt waited until he was back inside his home before unrolling the paper, and thankfully he had, because when he saw the front page of the standard newspaper, he screamed and dropped it on the ground.

**_Blaine Anderson's Big Secret_ **

_Growing up in the spotlight cannot have been easy for Blaine Anderson. It's only natural that the son and successor of Chancellor Anderson should try to maintain some semblance of privacy in his personal life. But it seems that Blaine may be keeping a very serious secret. As seen in the pictures above, Blaine was caught in an intimately private moment with a mystery man. Normally, we here at The Daily Edition would not report on relationship gossip. However, the source who submitted the photograph (who wishes to remain anonymous) reports that the man Blaine is with is Low Class._

_The man's face is obscured in the images, but we have received a tip that he may be Kurt Hummel, an eighteen-year-old market vendor. Mr. Hummel, it seems, has another job on the side. Is the esteemed, beloved Blaine Anderson illegally purchasing the services of a Low Class prostitute? Or could this be something more? We have not yet been able to reach Mr. Anderson for a statement. Any further developments in this story will be reported here first._

Kurt focused on his breathing. It was fine. It was going to be all right. Blaine would be able to handle things. In less than twelve hours, he would be in Blaine's arms and he would tell him that everything was going to be okay. Plus, it was just speculation that he was the Low Class person in the picture. Blaine would make this all better.

Within twenty minutes, though, reporters started arriving in front of Kurt's house and market stand. Kurt (and, following his lead, every person from his village) ignored every request for comments, and attempted to go about his business as usual. Eventually, they went home, realizing that they would get no statement, or catch Kurt whoring himself out on the streets.

Shortly after seeing the cameras and reporters, Kurt's mind went into overdrive. With all of the attention on him, there was the imminent danger of someone realizing that something out of the ordinary was going on in their town. Kurt silently passed along the message that dinner was canceled tonight. He started hiding food in every crevasse of his house. He discreetly gave bags of food to neighbors to store away in their houses. He packed up his stockpile of money into an envelope and hid it in his waistband.

One hour left until he saw Blaine. Blaine would know what to do. Blaine would have the answer.

Late that night, Kurt waited out in the alley. He waited. And waited. And waited. But Blaine never came.


	20. Chapter 20

Things had gone from bad to worse in the blink of an eye.

If the publishing of the newspaper article wasn't bad enough on its own, almost immediately afterward, reporters started circling the gate outside of Blaine's house like sharks. To top it all off, Blaine had not been able to make his weekly date with Kurt because he was unable to break through the wall of relentless men and women waiting outside his gate to ambush him.

He was pissed, to say the least. Pissed that someone had intruded on a private moment between himself and Kurt. Pissed that someone had been petty enough to reveal that moment to the world for his or her own gain. Pissed that everyone now thought Kurt was a prostitute. Pissed that he was being kept from Kurt when they needed each other most. And pissed that Kurt was being dragged through the mud just because of his stupid Anderson name.

Now, to put the icing on the cake, Blaine's father had requested him in a private meeting.

For the first time in his life, as he walked from his house to his father's office, plowing through the endless sea of people asking for comments with his head down, Blaine was thankful for the security that had been assigned to him. In the past two days, they had outdone themselves by successfully keeping Blaine's house and the Anderson estate relatively press-free. The Council Building, where Mr. Anderson's office was housed, was on public property, though, and reporters swarmed every door and window.

The inside of the Chancellor's office was a brief reprieve from the mess outside. Blaine sat slouched low in a leather chair, rocking against the back of the chair slightly and causing it to spring back and forth. He stared at his hands, which gripped his thighs with white knuckles. So much tension was built up inside his body that he craved one of Kurt's famous massages. _Ugh_. The thought of Kurt only made him tense up further.

Mr. Anderson sat across from Blaine in his own leather chair, his whole posture screaming _disappointment_ and _dominance_.

"You've really put me between a rock and a hard place, here, Blaine. All for some Low Class whore?"

"He's not a whore." Blaine insisted.

"All right, prostitute then, if we're being technical."

"He's not a prostitute." It came out as a half-growl.

"What has gotten into you? It's not shameful to take a whore, Blaine. We all have urges. Here's what we can do: We can pass legislation legalizing prostitution. We can hold a press conference and clear your name. It's simple. But I can't take care of it if you keep denying what you've done."

"I haven't done what you're accusing me of."

"Accuse is such a harsh word. I told you, we will get you out of this."

"And I told you Kurt isn't a prostitute!"

"Just own up to it, Blaine. Stop wasting our time."

"Okay, father. I will own up to what I've done. I am in love with Kurt Hummel. I have been in love with him for six months. We started dating when we were at Dalton, and he is the axis around which my world turns. I've been seeing him secretly for the past month. That's why we were together in that picture."

Mr. Anderson was speechless. His mouth moved soundlessly. "You...I...what...he's the boy you were looking for?"

Now he cared. "The one and only."

"Blaine. This is...There is a press conference scheduled for tomorrow afternoon. The official story we will present to the media is that he's a prostitute."

Blaine slammed his fists on the desk in front of him. "No!"

"Yes. And that's final. You will not like the consequences if you act otherwise."

He and Blaine stared each other down.

"I will not defame Kurt and let the world believe he is a prostitute."

"Do not defy me, Blaine. I was so pleased with the way you commanded the room at that Council meeting on Monday. You have a gift. Do not squander it like this. If you value your position and lifestyle, you will do as I say."

Blaine had never seen his father look so threatening. He knew how important it was to the Resistance for him to remain on the Council. He swallowed hard and nodded once.

\---

38 hours. That's how long it had been since Kurt last slept. Humans were not meant to go this long without sleep. His brain was foggy and he was moving slowly.

On Saturday, Kurt had waited outside all night for Blaine, even though he risked being caught on camera. He decided that if a reporter showed up and happened to take a picture of him standing around in the street, looking exactly like what he was accused of, then so be it. Kurt had paced then sat then paced then sat then paced again.

He was terrified for Blaine. What if something had happened to him? What if he had been arrested? A smaller, more irrational part of him wondered if Blaine stayed away intentionally because everyone thought he was a whore now. Kurt sighed, and paced some more.

Eventually, when it was beyond clear that Blaine wasn't coming, Burt had come out and escorted an eerily apathetic Kurt inside. He had tried comforting Kurt, tried getting him to open up, but Kurt remained strangely stoic about it all.

Exhausted from the lack of sleep and the worry that had been his constant companion for the past 24 hours, Kurt went through the motions on Sunday. He showered, dressed, ate, and sold his clothes in his zombie-like state.

Thankfully, Sam had noticed and had offered to help him, because Kurt's market stand had become unprecedentedly popular overnight. People had come from hours away just to catch a glimpse of Blaine Anderson's mystery man and to try to determine for themselves if he was indeed a prostitute. Sam kept checking in to make sure Kurt was okay, but Kurt was doing what he did best: ignoring their questions, throwing out snarky retorts when they made thoughtless comments, and selling more clothes than ever before in a single day.

Kurt, despite his calm exterior, was freaking out on the inside. He kept one eye on the crowd all day, waiting for an officer to appear out of nowhere and arrest him. He knew that was illogical, of course, since there was no evidence of prostitution against him, but still...the paranoia of having broken the law (and more than one law, at that) was catching up to him.

As the day passed, Kurt grew overly conscious of the envelope of bills that he still had stuffed in his waistband. If he was caught with this money...Kurt shuddered to think what would happen to him. He knew Mayor Tai would take the envelope if he asked her to, but he did not want to leave any evidence pointing to her involvement in their operation, and plus, the amount of money in the envelope was far more than even a Middle Class citizen should be allowed to have. No, he would much rather take the fall than to throw even just one person under the bus. These thoughts and concerns chased each other around and around in his head, and by the end of the day, Kurt's mind and body were run ragged.

He had cancelled the community dinner again that evening, in case any reporters were still lurking around, so after the market closed, Kurt collapsed onto his mattress, begging for sleep to take him. Although his mind was racing, his body was too exhausted to resist the sweet call of slumber, and he drifted off.

It could not have been an hour later that Burt woke him up.

"Get up, buddy."

Kurt sat up ramrod straight at the urgency in his dad's voice, suddenly very much awake. "What is it, dad?"

"You need to go to the shop. Take this," he dropped the key in Kurt's hand. "It's locked. Don't let anyone see you, okay?"

Burt was being cryptic, but the look he was giving Kurt told him what (or rather, who) was waiting for him at the shop.

Kurt walked the short distance to his father's auto shop as quickly and as calmly as he could. He twisted the key in the lock and braced himself as he opened the door.

A sigh of relief.

Sprinting across the room.

Jumping into his arms.

 _Blaine_.

\---

"Wes? How good are you at driving under pressure?" Blaine asked him out of the blue as they lounged on Blaine's couch, bored out of their skulls. Neither had been able to leave the property since the story broke, for fear of being photographed and/or followed.

"Um...I feel like this is a trick question. Good, I think?"

"Perfect." Blaine grinned deviously.

Ten minutes later, they were strapped into the Ferrari that Blaine's father had bought him for his birthday, giggling giddily at what they were about to do. They pulled up to the security gates of the house, and Blaine looked at Wes.

"Are you ready?"

"So ready." Wes gripped the steering wheel. They could hear the chatter of the people who had been waiting outside for almost two days, hoping for even just one minute of excitement. Blaine had been assured by security that everyone would be clear of the driveway and road. He hoped they had not been lying.

"How good is your insurance policy?" Blaine asked offhandedly.

"I feel like now may not be the best time to bring that up…"

The gates began to open in front of them.

"Step on it!" Blaine shouted, and they whooped excitedly as the car shot forward down the street, leaving any pursuers in the dust.

Checking the rearview mirrors every few seconds as they twisted and turned down the road at an incredible speed, Blaine finally declared that they had not been followed, and Wes slowed the engine a bit.

"That was exhilarating!" Wes exclaimed. But one look over at Blaine told him that the high of the escape had already worn off and Blaine was back to his brooding, worried self. This was a far cry from the carefree, lovestruck boy Blaine had been earlier that week, and Wes would have done anything to erase the pain Blaine was feeling and bring that feeling back to him.

They turned onto the road that would take them directly into Kurt's village, and Blaine directed Wes to go around the back side of the market toward the auto shop, his voice growing more and more strained the closer they came.

"Drop me and drive off. I don't want anyone to see my car there and trace it back to me. Come pick me up in two hours."

"Aye aye, captain!" Wes saluted.

Blaine realized how awful he had been after what Wes had done for him. "I'm sorry, Wes. I know I'm being moody and a terrible friend and boss. You've been fantastic. Thank you for helping me make my jailbreak." He gave Wes a halfhearted smile before stepping out of the car and into the shop.

Luckily, Burt was still there, and he let Blaine in, locking the door behind him.

"Hi, kid."

"Hello, sir."

"To what do I owe this pleasure?"

"I need to speak with Kurt." Upon seeing Burt's skeptical look, he added, "I wasn't followed. I made sure of that."

Burt nodded curtly. His distressed expression mirrored Blaine's. "He won't talk to me about it. He's acting like everything is fine…I know better than anyone how strong Kurt is, but…"

"...Even the strongest people need a shoulder to lean on sometimes," Blaine finished for him.

"You have to do anything you can to protect him," Burt begged.

"I will. Always. Everything I do is for Kurt."

"I know it is, bud. You stay here. I'll go get him."

"Thanks. And Burt? I didn't mean for this to happen. I had no idea." Blaine could not help the feelings of guilt swirling in his stomach.

"I know that, kid. None of this is your fault. Don't let anyone tell you differently. Not even yourself." Burt winked as he walked out the door, re-locking it as he went.

Blaine shoved his hands in the pockets of the sweatpants he had been wearing when he escaped from his house. He focused on deep breathing and slowing his heart rate. It seemed like hours later that the lock finally turned and the door opened.

Before he could process the blur flying across the room, Kurt was barreling into him and throwing himself into Blaine's arms.

"I've been so worried," Kurt breathed into Blaine's hair.

"Me too. I'm so sorry I couldn't come yesterday. People are still surrounding my house. Wes and I had to plot an escape to come here," he conceded a small smile. "Has anyone been harassing you?" He set Kurt down, but kept his arms around him.

"A bunch of reporters were here for the first twelve hours or so, but they quickly realized they weren't going to get anything out of me, so they left. Shoppers in the market have been asking me questions and making rude comments, but they're buying more clothes than ever, so I can't complain."

Blaine saw through that front immediately. He brushed Kurt's limp hair out of his face and ran a thumb across the dark circles under his eyes. "I'm so, so sorry, Kurt. Sorry that you've been dragged into this because of who I am."

"Never apologize for who you are," Kurt shushed him, twirling a curl around his finger.

"Yeah, well, I never thought that who I was would lead the general public to think you're a prostitute."

Kurt blanched. He let go of Blaine to sit on a stool nearby and occupied himself with obsessively wringing his hands. "Remember the nightmares I have?" He waited for Blaine to nod. "There was a time when dad and I were so hungry we would do anything for food. My mom had just died of starvation and I was determined not to let my dad go the same way, so I headed out into the streets one night. Two men propositioned me and started trying to touch me." Blaine's hand flew out to grab Kurt's hand as if he could not help it. "My dad found me before things had gone very far and scared them off. That's what my nightmares are about. Being a prostitute and having strangers touch me intimately because they own my body for that hour they paid for.

"But after that day, my dad and I vowed to never sink that low again, to never be hungry again. That's when we started our...system. Blaine, I've worked so fucking hard and risked fucking _everything_ so that I wouldn't have to sell myself, so that I could preserve my dignity and virtue, and now everyone thinks I'm a whore anyway." Kurt could not bring himself to laugh at the irony.

Blaine pulled him off the stool and in for another tight hug. "I cannot tell you how sorry I am, babe. I had no idea. But I...I told my father the truth. I told him I refused to let the world believe that you're a prostitute. He insisted that I hold a press conference and tell everyone that you're a whore and that I paid for you. He said they'll legalize prostitution to clear my name. He threatened me with my career and my way of life, Kurt. What do I do?" Blaine's chin quivered against Kurt's shoulder. The thought of defaming Kurt that way hurt his heart.

Kurt took a deep breath. He pushed back to look Blaine in the eyes. "You have to do it, Blaine. I don't care what people think. I know the truth, and you know the truth. That's all that matters."

"But after all you've done to avoid having to sell your body - which makes me absolutely sick to think about, by the way - you don't deserve this."

"It's the only way for you to get out of this without consequences."

Blaine clutched Kurt to his chest, a tear rolling down his face. He felt something crinkle between their bodies.

"What's this?" Blaine asked, patting at Kurt's lower stomach.

Kurt bit his lip and extracted the envelope from his waistband.

"Please don't freak out. I need you to take this."

Blaine peeked into the envelope and saw more cash than he had ever seen at one time. His eyes bugged out of his head.

"Don't have a heart attack. It's just money."

"Enough money to get you _killed_!" Blaine's voice sounded strangled.

"How else did you think I was feeding everyone? I don't magically make food appear! Please. You have to take it. I can't risk anyone finding it and putting my dad or anyone else in danger."

Blaine took the envelope, in awe of the man he loved. Kurt would always opt to take the burden of everything in order to ensure the safety of everyone else he loved. Kurt was stronger than he could ever be.

Blaine slipped a few bills back into Kurt's pocket and whispered, "trust me."

He knew what he had to do.

\---

Kurt walked the steps to Mayor Tai's house with Burt and Sam flanking him, his heart fluttering like a hummingbird.

"Hi Kurt. Come in. It starts in a few minutes."

They followed her to her living room and perched on the couch in front of the television, waiting for Blaine's press conference to be aired.

"I'll leave the three of you alone," Naomi said quietly, stepping out.

Burt put an arm around Kurt's shoulders while Sam paced around the room.

"Sam. Stop. You're making it worse."

"I can't stop! This isn't fair. Excuse me for being worried about you."

Kurt gave him a weak smile. He knew that after Blaine made this announcement, the sideways stares and rude comments and men coming on to him or waving dollar bills in his face would never end. But it would be worth it. Kurt knew Blaine thought that he himself would be the one facing the consequences if he went against his father's wishes and told the truth, but Kurt wasn't so naive. He knew they would try to aim for Blaine's heart and go for Kurt instead, which would hurt Blaine more than anything else they could do to him. So this was definitely for the best.

The breaking news intro chimed through the room, and all three men turned their eyes to the television.

Blaine and the Chancellor stood behind a podium in a room full of reporters and photojournalists. Even though he was nervous, Kurt still swooned a little upon seeing Blaine on the screen. He took a moment to appreciate how just the sight of Blaine could make his heart race for a completely different reason.

"Thank you for joining us today," Mr. Anderson began. "In recent days, there has been much speculation about a photograph of my son and a Low Class man that has been circulating. We are here to set the record straight and dispel any rumors. We will answer questions following Blaine's statement. My son has acted shamefully, and he will issue a full apology for cavorting with someone like the man in question, however, there have been some recent changes in legislation that do not render taking a prostitute to be illegal in any way. That being said, I will hand the floor over to Blaine. Thank you."

Kurt watched Blaine carefully as he stepped up to the podium. He saw it before anyone else did. He saw it in the set of Blaine's jaw. He saw it in the slight narrowing of his eyes. He saw it in the tension in Blaine's shoulder. He saw the truth bubbling up inside Blaine, threatening to burst out.

"No, no, no…" Kurt groaned, pulling at his hair.

Blaine cleared his throat.

"Good afternoon. My father was incorrect. There is nothing shameful about what I have done. The man in question is not a prostitute. He is my boyfriend."

 _Shit_.

The press conference room was in an uproar. Clicks of cameras and bright flashes and microphones waving and question after question after question. The Chancellor, red-faced and fuming, caught Blaine by the arm and ripped him out of the room, leaving his assistant to deal with the aftermath.

Kurt turned his attention away from the screen as his dad spoke to him.

"We have to get home. Now." Burt ordered.

He and Kurt dashed out of the mayor's house and down the street to try to beat the influx of reporters that were undoubtedly coming.

They were too late. Two men were already standing in front of their house. But they weren't reporters. They were officers.

"Kurt Hummel? We need you to come with us."

 _No_.

Kurt stood his ground. He suddenly understood why Blaine had insisted he take that thousand dollars back.

"I'm sorry, officers. My offense was interclass communication. I am able to pay the fee. That does not warrant my arrest. If you wait here, I will retrieve the money for you and you can be on your way."

The officers smirked. "You are not under arrest. We just have some...questions for you regarding unrelated allegations."

Burt gave Kurt a hard stare that told him that fighting it would make things worse.

Kurt took one step forward. "Okay. I'll go."

The two men escorted Kurt into the back of a police car, where he watched Burt as they drove off, trying to convey with his eyes not to worry and that he would be all right.

While his town faded out of sight, Kurt asked through the partition where they were going.

"We're taking you to a holding room. The Chancellor himself has asked for you. You must be someone pretty special." They laughed heartily at their joke.

Kurt slammed his head backward into the headrest just hard enough to give himself a small headache.

 _Fuck_. He would _not_ be all right.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just want to put a warning out there that there is some violence in this chapter. It's not explained in terribly graphic detail, but it's emotionally difficult to read. For me, anyway. 
> 
> And yes, I did pull a Pocahontas there toward the end. 
> 
> Love, love, and more love.

After yanking Blaine away from the cameras at the press conference, his father had taken him to a locked room and laid into him.

"Who the hell do you think you are, Blaine? Defying me like that...what gives you that right? This is a horrible mess, you idiot boy. You have no idea what you've done. We just succeeded in banning the Resistance, but you think I don't know they're just waiting for something like this to happen? This is only going to add fuel to their fire. You are going to sort this out."

"There isn't anything to sort out. Just punish me and get it over with. It's just a fine. I can pay." On one hand, Blaine realized how big of a deal this was. The Chancellor's son, a Council member and future leader of the nation, had admitted to willingly breaking one of the most important laws in existence. On the other hand, Blaine thought his father was seriously overreacting.

"True. You can, but maybe the other boy can't," the Chancellor said slowly and deliberately.

"What do you mean by that?" Blaine narrowed his eyes.

"I mean that one way or another, you will pay for your actions. Just...go home, Blaine. I need time to figure out what we are going to do."

Blaine only stared back at him. Was his father truly threatening Kurt? He wouldn't dare. Blaine chose his next words carefully.

"Okay. I'll go home. I'll put out the fires I started, and I won't cause any more trouble. But only on one condition."

The Chancellor looked up warily. He did not understand why Blaine had to be so difficult. "What is your condition?"

Blaine knew Kurt had enough money to pay the fine for breaking the communication law; he had seen to it. There was no way he was going to allow anything else to happen to him, though.

"You can make Kurt pay the fine. But after that, you leave him alone." He had intended for the statement to sound fierce and dangerous, but it came out pleading.

His father sighed. "Fine. He will not pay more than the fine. _For this crime_. Now leave. This will be the last time you pull a stunt like this."

"Understood." Blaine walked out the door, beyond relieved that Kurt would be safe.

\---

If Kurt was not under arrest, then why did this room feel like a prison? True, he was not shackled, and had free roam of the gray room that was furnished with a small table and two chairs in one corner and a firm-looking couch in another, but Kurt had the feeling that any attempt at leaving would be met with resistance. He was also pretty certain that non-prisoners did not get strip searched upon arrival.

Nobody had come into the room in hours, and Kurt had already looked through the three issues of _People_ that sat on the table in front of him multiple times. He simultaneously hated and was thankful for the clock on the wall. It was a comfort to be able to keep track of the passing time somehow in this windowless room, but watching mundane second after mundane second tick by with no end in sight was not the most preferable way to spend time.

In the span of three hours, Kurt had experienced the gamut of emotions. Fear, hopelessness, anxiety, irritation, and now, restlessness and boredom. At least the horrible sense of dread had left him. For now. He had no idea what was going to happen, but Kurt put his faith in his ability to withstand anything that was thrown at him. He focused on meditating.

_Breathe in the positive._

_Breathe out the negative._

Easier said than done when a he was about to be questioned about breaking the law...

Eventually, footsteps sounded outside the door, and an older man walked in the gray room. He looked at Kurt as if Kurt's presence alone had made his day. It was sort of creepy.

"Mr. Hummel. I've been dying to meet you."

Kurt shifted, sitting up taller. The hair stood up on the back of his neck as every alarm bell in his body sounded.

"Sorry, can't say that I've felt the same."

The man ignored him and sat down across the table. "You're already such an interesting creature. Blaine has just made you all the more fascinating. Tell me, Kurt, why would Blaine insist that you aren't a whore?"

"Because it's the truth, and Blaine apparently has some kind of misguided obsession with protecting my honor, even when it leads to his own prosecution."

"Ahh, it seems that you know more than I anticipated. This is going to be fun," the man leaned forward in his chair and Kurt balked at the feeling of his hot breath across his face. "But you know what? I knew that you weren't a prostitute. In fact, I know that where you come from, nobody is, even when every other Low Class village out there has to resort to that disgusting crime."

Kurt's eyes widened momentarily at the realization that this man may hold the key to unlocking his secret.

"Oh, yes, Kurt. I know more than you've anticipated as well."

"Where is Chancellor Anderson? I was told he would be here."

"The Chancellor is not precisely aware of your whereabouts yet. Maybe we can keep it that way if you cooperate."

Kurt stiffened in his hard plastic chair. This was worse than he thought. Who was this man? Why did he know things about his village? And why did it seem like he had some personal vendetta against him?

"Excuse me, but I didn't catch your name."

"How rude of me," the man stuck his hand out across the table. Kurt blanched away from it instinctively, and the man dropped his hand, his face growing red in anger. "My name is White."

\---

_Ring ring!_

Between reporters and anonymous threats, Blaine's landline phone had been ringing nonstop since the press conference, and he had ignored every last call so far. He considered disconnecting the phone entirely, but part of him was hoping Kurt would miraculously find his number and a phone to use to call him. Not having Kurt by his side through this was terrible. He was fighting everything in his body that pulled him toward Kurt, because he knew it would not help either of them to be seen together right now.

His answering machine picked up, and Blaine started at the distinct, vaguely familiar voice that played through his living room.

"Hello? Blaine Anderson? This is a friend from school...I have something to ask you…"

Blaine pinpointed the voice. Leo. The kid from their class who always had the parties in his dorm. Kurt had always been friendly with him. They shared many of the same views, and Leo seemed like a nice guy. Maybe he was calling because he had heard from Kurt. It was a stretch, but stranger things had happened. Blaine picked up the phone, cutting off Leo's message.

"Leo? It's Blaine. Is this about Kurt?"

"What? No...Hi. Is this line secure?"

Blaine confirmed that it was, feeling slightly disappointed.

"I need something from you. I wasn't sure if you were still on our side or not, but then I saw you on TV last night and I knew I had to call you…"

"Of course I still support the Resistance, Leo. That's never going to change. What is it that you need?"

"Do you know about the protest on Saturday?"

"What protest?"

"Really? I was sure Kurt would have told you…"

Blaine thought back to the last real conversation he had had with Kurt that was not focused on their current predicament. "We've been a bit...preoccupied lately."

"Sorry about that. Thank you, by the way, for telling the truth, Blaine. You don't know how much it means to our cause."

"I wouldn't dream of doing it any other way. Tell me about this protest."

"On Saturday, there will be massive march on the Council Building. Massive. People are being bused in from everywhere. It's all been planned underground, of course, since it's technically illegal, plus, that gives us the element of surprise. We're not backing down this time. We won't stop until we make a change. Are you sure this line is secure?"

"A little late for that, you think? But that's great, Leo. What can I do to help?"

"Here's what we need…"

\---

Kurt had been left alone in this awful gray room for twelve hours. He had not eaten or slept, and he had not seen or heard anybody else. He figured White was trying to freak him out, make him panic about what White might know, maybe even formulate a plan to give up information in exchange for his release. But Kurt had been preparing for this moment for years. He had always known his capture was a possibility, and he was not going to give in to their requests for information. Kurt lounged on the couch in the corner of the room, trying to think of happy things to keep his spirits up. He recalled memories of Blaine at Dalton, which were some of the best he had. He remembered their kisses, their late night skinny dips, their escapes to the jazz club, their affirmations of love for each other, waking up in Blaine's arms...he longed for Blaine like he had never longed for anything.

The door creaked open, and Kurt looked up lazily from his reclined position on the couch. A flash of annoyance crossed White's face upon seeing how relaxed Kurt was. His method had obviously not worked, and he was pissed about it.

White dragged a chair across the room and sat down a few feet from the couch.

"It's time to talk, Kurt. Cut the shit. There is some illicit activity going on in your town. You need to tell me about it."

Kurt rolled his eyes. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't play dumb with me!" White shouted, his anger rising. "You have no idea what I'm capable of, young man."

"I'm not playing anything."

"Listen. You've been convicted of a crime. We have reason to suspect that you have committed another, though we aren't sure of the details yet. For a second offense, the consequences are much, much harsher. But all you have to do is tell me what's going on, and who else is involved, and you'll be let off the hook."

"I don't know anything," Kurt shrugged, flipping nonchalantly through one of the magazines. He could practically hear steam coming from White's ears.

"Let me help you out, then. Here is what I know. Nobody in your town engages in prostitution, yet nobody in your town is dying of starvation. Your market is the most popular I've ever seen. And the clothes you sell aren't from the approved stock patterns, nor are they from any designer I recognize."

Shit. White had done his research. Most Low Class seamsters chose to use stock patterns to make their clothes to avoid the designer fee. If they made clothes from a designer's patterns, they had to pay more than half of the profits to the designer. Kurt obviously did not have that issue, as he was the designer. Which was illegal since it was a Class-restricted activity.

"So you see," White continued. "I know that something fishy is happening, and I know that you are involved. I just need your help filling in the details."

Kurt sighed and put his magazine down, swinging his legs over the side of the couch to face White.

"You're wasting your time. I won't tell you anything. So please, kindly fuck off."

White bared his teeth. "Then I will have to get someone who can make you talk." He stood up, shoving his chair out of the way. "It might take me a while, though, so I hope you aren't hungry or anything." As White backed out of the room, Kurt caught a glimpse of his malicious smile.

It was torture waiting for the door to close before he let out a laugh.

How funny that White thought hunger would be an effective coercion tactic on a person who had been chronically hungry for fourteen years of his life.

\---

Chancellor Anderson looked up at the man who was knocking on his office door.

"Come in, White."

White sat opposite the Chancellor, fidgeting his hands nervously.

"If you're here to ask about the investigation into the Hummel's village, I promise I will start soon. There has just been a lot going on lately…" The Chancellor motioned to the piles of paper in front of him on his desk.

"Don't worry about that, sir. I kind of...already started."

"Oh good heavens, White. What do you mean?" White was a good Council member. He upheld the laws in the most traditional sense, and would always support him in these matters. But he was rash, and was infamous for making poor decisions.

"I had Hummel brought in to the holding room yesterday and I started questioning him."

The Chancellor closed his eyes, breathing carefully. When he opened them again, he said, "Please tell me you're joking. I just promised Blaine that Kurt would be okay."

"With all due respect, sir, I think it's time you break that promise. He knows something. And it's big. But he won't budge. I need something more."

"Well if he's not cooperating with the investigation, then we have no choice. What is it you need from me?" Blaine was going to be so angry with him. Some things had to come before family, though, and the law was one of them.

"Come with me to see him. Then if he still won't give, we resort to other...methods."

"Agreed. We will go in the morning."

\---

Blaine sat in a Council meeting, doing his best to ignore the glares White kept casting in his direction. He kept waiting for his father to decide his punishment, but it hadn't come yet. Blaine tried to focus on what the speaker was saying, but White kept leaning forward and whispering in his ear.

_Kurt is going to get what's coming to him._

_Your boyfriend looks adorable in handcuffs._

_I know what Kurt's face looks like when he's begging for mercy._

_He screams for you to help him._

Halfway through the meeting, Blaine couldn't take it anymore. He knew White was just trying to rile him up, since his father had assured him that Kurt was safe, but he had just had enough.

He stood up, White following suit.

"What's the matter, Blaine? Worried about your little Kurt? Hey, what does that tattoo on his shoulder mean? Is that what you shout when he makes you-"

Blaine shoved White backward into his chair, cutting him off.

"Do not _ever_ talk about Kurt again," Blaine hissed before turning on his heel and storming out the door to hurry back home.

It had to be a coincidence. There's no way White could know about the tattoo. White was very convincing, though. Shit. Could he have been telling the truth about the other things too? Blaine broke into a run. He had to talk to Kurt now.

He wracked his brain as he clutched his cell phone tightly in his hand. He vaguely remembered his father telling him about the directory of mayors in their online database. Blaine pulled it up quickly, locating Naomi Tai's name. With shaking fingers, he dialed her number.

"Ms. Tai, this is Blaine Anderson. I need to speak with Kurt Hummel. It's urgent."

Naomi's response knocked the breath out of him.

" _He's been gone for days?!_ " Blaine sat down on the edge of the fountain outside his house. "Who took him?"

A minute later, he hung up the phone, unwilling to believe what he had been told. Fear swept through him, White's words suddenly seeming like a more realistic possibility.

_Where are you, Kurt? Please be all right._

_\---_

"Is this some sort of good cop/bad cop thing? Because it won't work." Kurt was standing in the middle of the holding room with his arms crossed, looking between the Chancellor and White. The Chancellor had come in, apologizing to Kurt for keeping him for so long, and asking him kindly to please give them the information they were looking for. He had also brought Kurt a couple of breakfast pastries, which Kurt refused to touch, and coffee, which he almost could not resist. He was having an incredibly hard time keeping his eyes open, and he hoped they would leave the drink after they left.

"No, it isn't. Kurt, I have to let you know that failing to cooperate with a government official is a punishable offense," The Chancellor told him.

"Surprise, surprise. Fine. Punish me all you want, but you'll never get any information out of me."

The Chancellor threw up his hands in defeat, but White looked excited. He looked to the man standing next to him. "Hummel is charged with interclass communication, is somehow involved in this little operation, and was a known supporter of the Resistance while at Dalton. I propose a public lashing. As many as it takes until he speaks."

"That is primitive!" Kurt shouted. Then, as if daring the Chancellor, "You wouldn't…"

The Chancellor surveyed Kurt for a moment before speaking. Kurt tried not to rearrange his features to avoid letting on how appalled he was. "I think that would be appropriate for the offenses presented. Kurt, are you sure you have nothing to tell us?"

"I'm sure." Kurt held Mr. Anderson's eyes. "What would Blaine say? If he knew you were planning to torture me for information? If he knew you were abusing your power like this?"

"This is not an abuse of power, Mr. Hummel. This is standard procedure. It is perfectly within the law."

"That doesn't make it okay. Think about it. What about Blaine?" Kurt persisted.

"Blaine has made some poor decisions lately, and he needs to face the consequences of his actions."

"By taking it out on me?"

"This is not up for discussion, Mr. Hummel," The Chancellor scolded.

White approached, a gleam in his eyes and metal in his hands. "Now, Hummel. Are you going to come willingly, or do you need to be handcuffed?"

\---

Kurt had put up one hell of a fight, but in the end, they handcuffed him anyway. Now, unbelievably, he was standing, tied and stripped of his shirt, against a whipping post. A small crowd had gathered in the square with the Chancellor at the center of the group as White happily stood out in front and read aloud Kurt's offenses.

"This is your last chance, Kurt," White said to him. "All you need to do is agree to tell me."

Kurt did not respond. He looked straight ahead with a blank expression, not focusing on anything in particular. White gave a nod to the executor, who raised his arm. Kurt held his breath and tensed, bracing for the blow.

The lash came down across Kurt's back.

_Holy fucking shit._

It was the worst, most intense pain he had ever felt. He tried to internalize the pain, determined not to cry out or let any weakness show.

White smirked evilly. "Changing your mind yet? You know what you need to do…"

Kurt just stared at him defiantly. "Never."

The executor brought his hand down again. This time, it took everything Kurt had not to yelp in pain. The sting spread across his entire back now, with no sign of ever letting up.

"Still no?" White asked, a laugh in his voice.

Kurt swallowed hard. "I'd rather take everything you have to give than talk. Is this all you've got?"

White practically jumped with glee. "Oh, no...I have much worse. I thought you'd never ask." He snapped his fingers and two large men emerged from the Council Building with another man between them.

_No. No, no no._

Kurt squeezed his eyelids together and clenched his teeth, hoping that when he opened his eyes, Blaine would not be standing there, forced to watch him be beaten.

"Bringing me to another public lashing, father? I thought you'd gotten over trying to make me more manly a long time a-" Blaine stopped where he stood, eyes finally making it to the whipping post and realizing it was Kurt tied up there. The two men on either side of him tightened their grips on his arms in preparation.

Kurt opened his eyes and looked into Blaine's, allowing a solitary tear to roll down his face. How fucked up was Chancellor Anderson that he would do such a thing to anyone, let alone his own child? Kurt tried to shake his head at Blaine, to tell him not to react, but it was too late.

Blaine lost it. He turned absolutely feral in that moment, clawing and screaming and kicking at the men holding him back, desperate to get to Kurt. His screams inhuman, the movements of his limbs uncontrollable. It was terrifying. Kurt never wanted to see Blaine like this again. Ever. He closed his eyes tightly and braced himself once more as the next lash came down on a new place on his back. Blaine's wails and thrashing increased in intensity upon seeing Kurt hit. It was a miracle that the two guards still had a hold on him.

A murmur ran through the crowd, people scared by Blaine's reaction, questioning whether the punishment should stop.

"Isn't this an appropriate punishment, Blaine? Your father told you you'd be sorry," White taunted.

Lash after lash rained down on Kurt, who fought to stay on his feet. Tears fell uninhibitedly down his cheeks, his eyes locked on Blaine.

Blaine had stopped fighting, realizing the futility of his actions. He was on his knees, watching Kurt and looking like he was in unimaginable agony. Through their eyes they communicated love and strength and apologies and consolations. Kurt focused all of his energy on Blaine, trying to feel the love and power radiating from him, giving him strength to withstand the punishment he was receiving.

Despite Kurt's strong front, he was growing weak. Whimpers were starting to escape his lips when he was hit, and the pain was so great he was on the verge of blacking out.

One more lash came down, and Kurt couldn't hold back anymore.

"AAARGHHH!" He screamed, sliding down the post to his knees.

A rustle in the crowd caused heads to turn.

At seeing Kurt break, Blaine had lost his mind. He kicked out, jumping to his feet and somehow, miraculously, breaking free of his guards.

Faster than he knew he could move, Blaine was at the front of the crowd, throwing himself across Kurt.

"STOP! STOP!" He cried. "Jesus Christ, stop!"

He positioned his body so that he was shielding Kurt from any further blows, but so that he was not touching any of the open wounds on Kurt's back. His beautiful, smooth, flawless skin was lacerated beyond belief. Blood ran from the gashes, staining the pale skin around them and saturating the waistband of his pants. Blaine whimpered at the sight, breathing deeply so he would not vomit.

Quietly, so nobody else could hear, he whispered in Kurt's ear, "Baby, please tell me you're okay. Please. Kurt." His broken sob cut raggedly through the air.

" _Blaine_ ," Kurt responded.

"Oh, thank god." Blaine gripped Kurt's arms and helped pull him up. He knew the last thing Kurt wanted was to be on his knees in front of his executor. He knew Kurt would never want to seem weak.

White stepped forward, addressing the executor. "No, no, don't stop. This just got so much more fun. Anderson is obstructing a government punishment. He should be punished as well." He squealed with delight. The executor complied and raised his arm once more.

"Stop," the Chancellor commanded before the executor could move. "Don't hurt Blaine."

Blaine felt Kurt heave beneath him in relief, a change from his quick, shallow breaths. He struggled to control his own breathing, and instantly transformed into the most powerful, intimidating version of himself that he had ever been. But not before placing a kiss on Kurt's sweaty temple.

Blaine turned toward a woman in the audience. "Get a doctor to my house right away." He then turned on his father, who actually cowered.

"Did you honestly just say that? You don't want to hurt me?! Don't you realize that what you've just done has hurt me beyond repair? You forced me to sit here and watch my boyfriend be brutally whipped for no reason other than to teach us both a lesson. This is not a game to see what it takes to make me see the wrong in my actions, father...this is my life, and Kurt's life. He could have _died_. You may not have been the one wielding the lash, but you are equally responsible for what happened.

"Your little game was pointless anyway. I will never apologize for loving Kurt, even if it means losing my career, my Class status, or you. Kurt is a hundred times the man you will ever be. He's strong and caring and supportive and everything you've never been for me. You attacked Kurt to get to me, and that speaks volumes about the man that you are.

"So don't worry about hurting me and Kurt, because we can get through anything together. But don't think that physical pain is the only way to hurt us. Every time you discriminate against other classes, _that_ hurts me. When you try to pass laws that further separate 'us' from 'them,' _that_ hurts me. When you treat someone differently because of what they were born into, _that_ hurts me. And every time you turn a blind eye to or perpetuate the injustice in the world, _that hurts me_. Think about that.

"Now. You will let Kurt go and never touch him again. If you do, you can say goodbye to me and to your legacy. Do you understand me?" Blaine looked up and realized everyone was watching him in awe. He wished he could have read Kurt's emotions in his eyes, but they were closed while he tried to breathe through the pain. Blaine combed Kurt's hair back off his face. A corner of Kurt's mouth twitched upward in thanks. Blaine hated his father for what he had done. Kurt would have permanent physical scars because of this, and both he and Blaine would forever face the residual emotional trauma.

"I said," Blaine repeated, more sternly this time. "Do you understand me?"

The Chancellor looked pale and afraid. For the first time in Blaine's life, his father looked like he was out of his depth, lost without a clue what to do.

Mr. Anderson gave an almost imperceptible nod. "Yes."

Blaine glared at White while he unlocked Kurt's handcuffs.

"I never want to see you again. Leave here or I'll make you disappear," Blaine threatened. White backed away quickly and vanished into the crowd.

Blaine turned back to Kurt, who was leaning against the post for support. He tried to take a step toward Blaine and collapsed into his arms.

The last thing he remembered was Blaine stroking his hair and repeating the mantra. "It's over now. You're okay. I love you."

Then he blacked out.

 


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Friday!   
> Only one chapter left. How is that even possible?!   
> I just published a new one shot. (Yes, another one...) So go read Beautiful Words. I promise it's not as sad as my last one... ;)   
> Thank you, as always, my brilliant readers.

Everything happening around Blaine was a fuzzy blur in the background of his mind. He was pretty sure people were talking to him, but the only thing his mind could focus on was Kurt. He could only see Kurt's injuries, only hear Kurt's moans, only feel the way Kurt's muscles were tensed in pain. He gingerly picked Kurt up in his arms and carried him away from the crowd.

Once off the main road, Blaine stumbled under Kurt's weight and knelt down on the street. Kurt groaned at the jostling, but Blaine shushed him, assuring him that he would be out of pain soon.

Vaguely, Blaine noticed a black car pull up next to him. Wes stepped out and approached the two boys, watching how Blaine's back went rigid as his shoes crunched the gravel with every footstep.

"Let me help you get him in the car," Wes stooped down and attempted to help pick Kurt up, but Blaine snapped.

"GET AWAY FROM HIM!" He shielded Kurt with his body. Blaine was shaking with rage, completely irrational.

Wes jumped back in shock.

"Okay, I won't get any closer." Wes knew better than to try and make Blaine see sense, so he opened the car's rear door for Blaine and got in the driver's seat.

Blaine hoisted Kurt into the car, laying him across his lap, and hummed soothingly to him while lightly stroking his cheek.

By the time they arrived at Blaine's house, Kurt was fully conscious again, and Blaine felt sick seeing how much pain he was in. He flew out of the car and toward the house.

Wes opened the front door for him and let them in, staying clear out of Blaine's way.

Inside, the kitchen table was cleared, and a sheet had been laid out over the top, posing as a makeshift hospital bed for Kurt. The doctor stood nearby, ready to begin tending to her patient.

Blaine carried Kurt right by the table and headed for his bedroom.

"Where are you going? The doctor set up the table for him!" Wes called.

"She can treat him in my bed. He needs to be comfortable." He kicked open his bedroom door.

"But it will get bloody! Blaine-"

"I DON'T FUCKING CARE!" yelled Blaine. He set Kurt down on the sheets carefully, hovering over him and kissing him over and over as he repeated whispering "I love you."

The doctor came rushing in the room after them, carrying her bags of supplies.

"Mr. Anderson. Mr. Hummel. My name is Dr. Sanchez."

Blaine stood between her and Kurt, his hand remaining on Kurt's arm. He nodded in acknowledgement of what she had said.

"Mr. Hummel, before I begin, I need to know if you have health insurance. House calls are not inexpensive, so-"

"That will not be a concern. Charge anything to me," Blaine interrupted.

Kurt wanted to mumble his thanks, but if he unclenched his teeth, he thought he might scream.

"Great. I'll get started, then."

Blaine continued to stare at her with his arms crossed, standing protectively over Kurt.

"Mr. Anderson, I will need to get near the patient to treat him," Dr. Sanchez said with a small smile. "I promise I will not hurt him."

Blaine looked down at Kurt, who reached out and put a shaky hand on his leg. Immediately, Blaine sank down to his knees and grabbed Kurt's hand. He turned to the doctor and nodded.

"Okay, but I'm not leaving."

"I can work with that. Let's start by giving you something for the pain, Mr. Hummel."

Kurt looked like he was starting to protest.

"You need it, Kurt," Blaine murmured. Then louder, to the doctor, "Don't medicate him too strongly. He wants a clear head. Just give him enough so he can function."

Kurt tried to smile gratefully, but it turned into a grimace.

The doctor got to work with Blaine watching protectively. Each time Kurt winced, Blaine glared at the doctor or questioned what she was doing.

The doctor knew it came from a place of love, though. "You're lucky to have someone who loves you as much as Blaine does," Dr. Sanchez stage whispered to Kurt as she tended to his wounds.

A while later, Kurt was cleaned, stitched up, bandaged, and feeling immensely better.

With Kurt out of pain, Blaine was once more in control of his emotions. He had been so tense, unable to bear seeing the man he loved so broken like that. He apologized to Dr. Sanchez, but she brushed him off.

"It's okay. I understand how hard it can be to watch a loved one suffer. I'll be back in a few hours to check in on him. Call me if you need anything," she told Blaine before she left.

It hurt to move, but Kurt did his best to make room for Blaine on the bed.

"Don't move, babe, I'm fine on the ground," Blaine said, but as he spoke, he wiggled his way in next to Kurt. He lay on his side beside Kurt, who was on his stomach, face turned to look at Blaine.

"Hi," Blaine whispered, finally able to breathe. Kurt was going to be okay. His father and White would never touch him again.

"You're scary," Kurt whispered back, eyes half-closed.

Had the doctor accidentally given him a higher dosage of the pain meds than she meant to? Was Kurt hallucinating? Blaine backed up a bit, just in case.

"What?"

A dreamy smile played at Kurt's lips. "When you get all fierce and protective over me, you're scary. I think you made Wes shit his pants earlier."

Blaine couldn't help it; he laughed out loud. "He'll live. Hey," He reached out to lay his hand on Kurt's back, but remembered it was injured, so his hand landed lower.

"If you wanted to touch my fabulous ass, you just had to ask, Blaine," Kurt joked weakly.

"Are you okay?"

Kurt's face fell. "After what I just went through, I don't think I'll ever be okay. You either. I will never forgive your father for doing that to you. Seeing you lose your mind like that over me, Blaine, it was the single most fucking terrifying thing I've ever seen. I thought my heart was literally going to tear its way out of my body. So no, I'm not okay. We're not okay. And we may never be. But we're together now, and like you said, we can get through anything together. Thank you for being there for me when I needed you most. I love you so much."

Blaine kissed his lips. "I love you too. Watching you get whipped up there was the most horrible thing I've ever gone through in my life. I will die to protect you from going through anything like that ever again."

They stared lovingly into each other's eyes for a long moment.

"There's a protest tomorrow…" Kurt mentioned carefully.

"Oh, yeah. I know. I mean, Leo called me about it because he needed my help with something. I'm really sorry that you won't be able to go, but I promise I will fight twice as hard, for both of us."

Kurt laughed. "That's cute that you think I'm not going."

"Kurt, Dr. Sanchez told you not to move for a few days, otherwise you run the risk of tearing your stitches."

"I can't miss it, Blaine. This is the culmination of everything I've been working for. This one event has the possibility to change the course of history. I have to be there. I _will_ be there."

Blaine shook his head in awe. "I know I say this a lot, but you are always amazing me with your strength, Kurt. You are my hero."

" _Me_?!" Kurt's question rang out shrilly through the room. "What you did for me today was so selfless and brave, and the way you stood up to your father like that...you were incredible. We can talk as much as we want in theory about what we would do for another person, but to have it put to the test like that, and for you to actually risk everything for me...that is something that will never cease to amaze me. I am so proud of who you've become, Blaine."

"If we're both so awesome, does this make us a power couple?" Blaine joked.

"The best and the brightest," Kurt replied. He puckered his lips, silently asking Blaine to lean in for a kiss, which he did.

"Okay. Let's get you your next dose of meds and then you can sleep for as long as you'd like. I have to get some things together for tomorrow," Blaine started to push up from the bed, but Kurt stopped him.

"Stay with me until I'm asleep."

How could Blaine resist that adorable, sleepy, drugged face of his boy?

\---

On the morning of August 2, a mile from the Council Building, bus after bus pulled up and hundreds of people flooded from their doors. The people were from all across the country, from all three Classes, and of all ages, genders, and races. The one thing they all had in common was a red and gold rose. Some carried them, some wore them, and some had even painted them on their bodies.

They spoke freely to each other across Classes, disregarding the communication laws. There was strength in numbers. Nobody would fear the consequences of breaking the unjust social laws today.

Every last person there supported Class equality. Every last person there was going to stay until they their dreams for the future became reality.

\---

Kurt awoke to a sense of hope, remembering what day it was, but it was quickly replaced by the searing pain in his back.

Blaine was at his side already with a dose of pain medication and a glass of water.

"Good morning, gorgeous," Blaine grinned. "It's your big day. Let's get you ready."

Kurt was beyond grateful that Blaine supported him in attending the march today, even though it contradicted his doctor's orders. Blaine continued to affirm what Kurt knew: That he had found the man he wanted to spend every day for the rest of his life with. Today, for the first time, it all seemed possible.

Blaine's housekeeper had washed Kurt's clothes overnight, so after helping him wash up, Blaine put on his jeans and loose linen shirt that thankfully did not disturb or constrict his bandages. Raising his hands above his head pulled uncomfortably at his back, so Blaine did his best to style Kurt's hair the way he liked.

Blaine put the finishing touches on Kurt and turned to him. "What do you think?"

Kurt observed his reflection in the full-length mirror in Blaine's bedroom. "Pleasantly surprised," he proclaimed, kissing Blaine sloppily on the cheek.

"You're almost perfect," Blaine told him, reaching around behind him.

"Almost? You should know better than to say something like that by now," Kurt joked, curious about what Blaine was grabbing. When Blaine straightened up, Kurt's breath caught. In his hand was the most stunning rose Kurt had ever seen. It was larger and fuller and more open than other roses he had seen, but as vivid red and painted gold as ever.

"What…?"

Blaine smiled proudly. "I cannot let you go off to the protest today wearing the same old rose that everyone else has. You have always stood apart from everyone else, you have always been someone incomparably special. You deserve to wear something as beautifully unique as you are."

Kurt took the rose with a blush coloring his cheeks. "Why are there two?"

"I was thinking about wearing the other one, but I'm not-"

"Wear it," Kurt cut him off. "You're my partner. My other half. Most of the time, you're my better half, I must admit. You're deserving of wearing it too, you know. We're in this together."

As they shared a long, deep kiss, Blaine's hands found Kurt's backside again, in an effort to avoid touching his injured back.

"You're really enjoying having this as an excuse to touch my ass all the time, aren't you?" Kurt chuckled, dropping his chin to Blaine's shoulder. Behind Blaine, he spotted a bucket full of gold-dipped roses.

"What are those?" Kurt pointed to the container.

"Ahh. Those are for the people inside the Council Building who might not know about the march, but want to support it from the inside. I've been working on changing minds since we graduated. It had to have had some effect."

Kurt beamed. "I am in love with the most perfect human being on the planet."

"Incorrect. That would be me."

Kurt pouted, checking out his bandaged back in the mirror. "Even with my scars?"

" _Especially_ with your scars" Blaine squeezed Kurt's hands. "Okay. Wes is going to drive you down to the rendezvous point, and I'm going to pretend like it's a normal day in the office. I will see you in a few hours. I love you so incredibly much, Kurt. Go change the world."

\---

Kurt had been wandering through the hundreds of people gathered for the march for fifteen minutes, and he still could not believe his eyes. His original plan was to stick to the outsides of the group to avoid his back getting bumped by overexcited strangers, but people he had never met before were shaking his hand and thanking him and pulling him into the center of the crowd.

"We can't believe you're here today."

"Where is Blaine?"

"You are such an inspiration, Kurt!"

It turned out the news story of his questioning and torture had been televised as part of the "Blaine Anderson Forbidden Love Saga," and everyone in attendance seemed to know who he was.

As grateful as he was for their support, there were only a few people he really wanted to see.

"I heard there is a celebrity in our midst," one of those people said from behind Kurt.

He spun around to see Renna's glowing face.

"Oh, Renna, hi!" Kurt hugged her the best he could in his current state, and she gently wrapped her arms around his neck.

"There are so many things I want to say to you, Kurt. But I'll save them all for later and ask you the two most important ones now. How are you? And how is Blaine?"

"We're all right, Ren. Thanks for asking. I'm on some pretty good drugs right now, so I'm doing great. Blaine was a mess yesterday, but we're both feeling so much better. Stronger than ever. How are you doing?"

"Oh, I'm great. I got into university and I start my studies in a few weeks." She put a piece of Kurt's hair back in place then laughed. "You have impeccable timing, you know? All of that drama with you and Blaine's relationship and then what happened yesterday...right before the protest. You couldn't have timed it better if you tried. Everyone is so fired up. But as useful as it is for our cause, I am so, so sorry it happened to you, Kurt."

"I know you are. Let's not dwell on the past today, just look forward to the future. Hey, I see Leo and the guys. Let's go say hi."

Kurt greeted his friends and multitudes of strangers. A busload of people from his hometown had shown up, including Burt, who Kurt found immediately and they shared a tearful reunion.

As the sun reached its highest point, tension grew in the large crowd, everyone feeling the anticipation of the protest. Resistance supporters clutched their posters, their roses, their purple, green, and yellow equality flags, and gathered into a cluster.

Kurt and Burt joined the front line and helped lead the march down the mile-long stretch to the Council Building.

Let the protest begin.

\---

Sitting in the Council meeting, Blaine was distracted, to say the least. His knees bounced, his fingers fidgeted, his eyes darted to the clock every few seconds. He was having a very difficult time attending to the previous month's summary that was being read aloud in the conference room.

Blaine could not even bring himself to even look at his father. He was disgusted with the man, and may not have shown up to work this morning had it not been for the protest. One positive thing had come from the horrific events of the previous day, however. White was nowhere to be found (thankfully for him), meaning the Council was temporarily down to eleven members. This meant that if anything regarding the protest came down to a vote, it was more likely to pass without White's vote.

Blaine was excited. When he had first pledged his allegiance to the Resistance to Kurt, he hadn't ever thought that they could actually make the changes they so desperately wanted. Even now that it seemed possible, he never would have guessed that it would happen so quickly. But all of the pieces had fallen into place, and it _was_ happening. He couldn't help but to hope that by this time next year, he would be free to walk down the street holding Kurt's hand after a night out. Everything that Blaine did was for Kurt, but he knew that it was so much bigger than that. He was fighting for equality for everyone who had ever been discriminated against because of their Class. He was fighting for his children to live in a different world than the one he had always known. He would fight until he had nothing left to give. Because it was the only way for his heart to be with the person it belonged. Because it was the right thing to do.

Out of the corner of his eye, Blaine spotted the first sign that the Resistance was coming. A colorful flag, just a speck in the distance, drawing nearer and nearer.

"What's that?" Another Council member asked, pointing out the window at the same speck Blaine had seen. A flood of people, heads just tiny dots down the road, grew ever closer. The quiet buzz of faraway voices carried through the walls of the Council building.

The Chancellor was on his phone right away, calling for security while running out the door to investigate what was happening. The rest of the Council came along, followed by the other staff in the building.

All of them, around forty people in total, lined the steps of the Council building, with a row of security guards out in front.

Rumbles of "What is going on?" and "Did you see that?" ran through the small crowd. Blaine glanced around and was surprised to find that almost all of the roses he had prepared the night before had been taken, and were now pinned on the shirts of the government employees who identified as Resistance allies.

As the protesters approached, the tension in the Council increased to an almost tangible level.

When Blaine could finally make out Kurt's face, he breathed out a sigh of relief. He had not realized he was so anxious about how Kurt was doing, but seeing that Kurt was not in pain lifted a huge weight off of Blaine's shoulders. In fact, standing next to Burt and leading the charge, Kurt looked like he was on top of the world.

Blaine watched in awe as the Resistance flooded in, filling the streets surrounding the Council building while waving their flags, shouting their chants, and proudly wearing their roses.

The advance stopped when they reached the line of police officers guarding the Council. Kurt stood twenty feet away from Blaine, his brilliant smile making Blaine smile involuntarily. Renna was right behind him, blowing Blaine a kiss. He winked at her in response.

The Chancellor stood on the highest step, and the chanting died down.

"What is the purpose of this?" Mr. Anderson asked.

A woman Blaine did not recognize stepped forward from the mass of protesters.

"We are the Resistance. You tried to stop us, but now we are here stronger than ever!"

The Resistance went crazy, whooping and cheering and jumping up and down waving their signs and flags.

"We demand equality for all Classes. We demand to be able to speak to each other without the fear of being fined. We demand to never watch our neighbors starve to death. We demand to end Class segregation! And we won't leave until we get it!" The roar from the crowd was deafening.

"And what makes you think you will achieve your goal when everyone who stands up here with me - those of us privileged enough to make the laws you live by - is against you?"

That was Blaine's cue. He turned to face the Chancellor.

"Actually, father," Blaine nodded to the others behind him wearing roses. "We're not."

Gasps ran through both sides of the crowd as Blaine and at least twenty others stepped across the security line and joined the Resistance. Blaine squeezed Kurt's hand and gave Burt and Renna hugs before turning back toward the remaining people on the Council Building steps, where his father was still looking dumbfounded at the betrayal of his employees.

The Chancellor, a determined look spreading across his face, leaned down and whispered to the security officers.

Always two steps ahead, Kurt bellowed "COVER YOUR FACES!" seconds before the guards sprang into action, throwing tear gas canisters.

The protesters went into a frenzy, everyone diving to cover their eyes and get out of the way of the tear gas. In the craze, a couple of men with the Resistance tried to break through the line of security, and were met with well-trained fighters. Seeing them, others attempted to join in taking down the security, through the fog of the tear gas that was already starting to dissipate.

"This is getting out of control," Kurt whispered to Blaine from their safe place they had found to stand. "Is there anything you can do? As soon as it gets too violent, we're fucked. We don't stand a chance if this isn't peaceful."

Blaine nodded, and scurried off, saying, "I will be right back. I promise."

Minutes later, two gunshots sounded into the air. Everyone froze. The Resistance rebels had stopped fighting the guards, who in turn, let them go.

The tear gas had all but gone now, thanks to the wind that day, and everyone returned to their original positions. Both sides were more agitated than before, their anger evident in their faces and their shouts.

"Tear gas won't stop us!"

"Dirty Low Class vermin!

"Privileged, Elite pricks!"

"Useless. You don't deserve to be equal to us!"

"STOP IT!" Blaine shouted into the megaphone. Both sides, seeing Blaine as someone to be admired, quieted quickly. "Fighting will get us nowhere. I have a proposal," he announced. "I would like to present it to the Council. It is the beginning of a larger plan I have been working on that would lead to full Class equality. We need to vote on it. Today."

The Chancellor eyed Blaine wearily. "It won't pass."

Instead of answering, Blaine, nodded across the crowd to Leo, who stepped aside, revealing two people whose presence made the Chancellor choke on his next words. Mrs. Anderson, who stood next to him, began to cry.

"Hi Mom. Dad."

Blaine could not believe his eyes. He had provided Leo with names of other Council members family who had descended, but he had not known Leo would get Cooper there. Cooper caught his incredulous eye and winked before turning back to his parents.

"This is my wife, Alyssa. I've missed the two of you. Mom, Dad, I thought you should know...Alyssa and I have two little ones. You're grandparents. Two little boys, three and six. They're perfect."

Another couple stepped forward, addressing the Council. "Hi Marcus. I never thought I would see you again," the woman who looked spectacularly like Marcus Schwartz, Council member, spoke. "I want you to know that I'm getting married next fall."

One by one, seven different people spoke out to the family they had not been allowed to see in years or, in some cases, decades.

By the end, half of the Council looked like they had seen ghosts. Some had tears in their eyes, some were shaking, and some were as pale as a sheet. But they were exactly where the Resistance wanted them: shaken up and emotional.

Blaine spoke up again into his megaphone.

"Chancellor Anderson. Don't you want to meet your grandchildren? Schwartz, don't you want to attend your sister's wedding? Clarke, don't you want to say goodbye to your mother before she passes? You can all do all of those things if we can just negotiate."

The Council members looked to the Chancellor, lost. He gripped Mrs. Anderson's hand as they both stared out longingly to where Cooper and his wife stood.

"An emergency meeting of the Council will begin in five minutes. Councilman Anderson, prepare your statement." The Chancellor stepped back inside the building without another look back, leaving everyone else standing there in awe.

Then, the crowd erupted.

"We did it! We actually did it!" People around Blaine were jumping up and down.

"We haven't done anything yet," Blaine told them. "We still need the majority of the Council to vote for the proposal. We are in for a long night."

The rest of the Council turned to follow the Chancellor inside. Blaine kissed Kurt on the mouth, Renna on the cheek, and gave Burt a huge hug. He did not seek out Cooper yet, because he needed to be at the top of his emotional game to fight for his proposal. They would connect afterward, Blaine promised himself, no matter the outcome of the vote. Then, to a sea of high fives and well wishes, he went inside to seal the fate of the Resistance movement.

\---

Camping had never been Kurt Hummel's idea of fun, so he was dismayed, to say the least, when he realized the Council meeting was going to last at least until late into the night, and that the Resistance would have to camp outside of the Council building. But as far as camping went, this was better than Kurt could have imagined.

Everyone's spirits were so high that it was impossible not to feel hopeful and excited. People were singing songs, dancing, telling jokes...the happiness was infectious.

The best part of it all was that Sam had brought a bus full of people and food from back home, and he and Kurt fed every last person at the protest. Many of the Low Class people who had come had not eaten a full meal in weeks or months, and Kurt was taken back to the early days of feeding the people in his town. He felt a surge of pride that he had been able to help provide for all of these people.

Kurt was floored by the way everyone was able to come together to fight for the same cause. If only there was a way to guarantee that it could make a difference...

Kurt had stepped away from his dad and his friends for a moment to collect himself. He hadn't taken his medication when he was supposed to, and his back was killing him. In an effort to distract himself, Kurt closed his eyes and rubbed his temples, trying fruitlessly to read Blaine's mind. He wished he could know how it was going in that meeting room, but they had received zero updates in the eight hours they had been sitting outside.

"Kurt? Sorry to interrupt," a voice broke through his attempts at telepathy. Wes stood by with Cooper and Alyssa close behind him. He held out what was in his palm to Kurt.

"Oh, Wes, you are a lifesaver," Kurt praised him as he reached out for the proffered pain medication. He swallowed it down quickly, then painstakingly got to his feet in front of Cooper Anderson and his wife.

"Don't thank me. Blaine sent me. But I'll leave you to get acquainted with Blaine's brother, here." Wes waved and disappeared into the mass of bodies.

Kurt shook hands with Cooper and Alyssa, introducing himself.

"So you're the Kurt Hummel who turned my sweet baby brother into a rebel," Cooper appraised him with an impressed smile.

"And you're the Cooper Anderson who left him to the wolves when you descended," Kurt shot back, a joking edge to his voice, but accusatory all the same.

"It's clear how much he loves you," Cooper told Kurt, quieter this time.

Kurt's mouth softened. "And he's told me how much he loves you."

The two men stared at each other for a minute. Then at the same time, they went in for a hug.

"Thank you for coming today," Kurt said. "I think your presence had the power to turn the tides here."

"Thank you for everything you've done for Blaine. Leaving him was the hardest thing I ever had to do. It was the only qualm I ever had about descending. But it's so relieving to know he has someone who is taking care of him. So…" an evil smirk crossed Cooper's face. "When's the wedding?"

Kurt nearly choked on his drink.

\---

The past sixteen hours had been spent talking in circles, fighting about beliefs, and arguing back and forth about the merits of Blaine's proposal. At its core, the proposal would immediately tackle Class inequality, with components for months and years down the line to fully correct the broken system.

Blaine was tired. It was four o'clock in the morning. He should be curled up in bed with Kurt. His heart panged as he envisioned a world in which he could spend every night with Kurt.

The Chancellor had been unexpectedly quiet during the entire meeting. Blaine assumed the shock of seeing Cooper and finding out he had grandchildren was what had done it, but he had never seen his father looking so unsettled.

Finally, the Chancellor stood, cutting off a rant by one of the Councilmen. "Council, we have talked this to death. Councilman Anderson has presented his proposal. We will now put it to a vote. With Councilman White's absence, there are twelve voters, including me. Seven votes passes or denies the motion. Six votes on either side will be a tie and will come down to my final vote. Councilman Anderson, begin the vote."

"Pass." Blaine looked eagerly to the next person. His heart was pounding out of his chest. This could be the beginning of everything. This was the most important moment of his life.

The vote went counterclockwise around the room.

"Pass."

"Deny."

"Pass."

"Deny."

"Pass."

"Pass."

"Deny."

"Deny."

"Pass."

"Deny."

It all came down to the Chancellor.

Mr. Anderson took a deep breath, and let it out slowly through pursed lips.

"Deny."

_Shit_.

The vote had been a tie, and the Chancellor would be the one to break it. He had already voted no once. It was over. Everything down the drain. Emotion overcame Blaine, and he momentarily forgot his place.

"Dad. _Please_. For me and Kurt. For Cooper. For the hundreds of people sitting out there, and the millions more who are treated unfairly because of what they were born into. Please. It's the right thing to do. Be a good man. Do right by your sons. _Please_."

"What is your final tie breaking vote, Chancellor?" One of the Councilmen asked.

With his eyes on Blaine, his father stood.

"I have already stated my opinion and cast my vote."

Blaine deflated, his last shred of hope gone. He blinked back tears. His heart broke for Kurt and their future and the other people whose lives would never improve.

The Chancellor spoke again.

"However...the final vote is not up to me. As of this moment, I am stepping down as Chancellor."


	23. Chapter 23

 

By two o'clock in the morning, the Resistance camp's enthusiasm had died down. The excitement of the reunions of long-lost friends and family had faded into soft conversations and quiet reflection. Groups of once-energetic dancers were now huddled together under blankets or jackets, dozing off in the cool night air while they waited for news.

The stream of friends and acquaintances who wanted to check in with Kurt and his family had finally ebbed. Both Mr. Brower and the Dean of Dalton - who had reunited with his sister - found Kurt at some point during the night and had let him know how thankful they were, and that no matter the outcome of the vote, they were proud of him.

Having talked to everyone he knew that was in attendance, Kurt finally sank to the ground for a moment of peace. He could not sleep, though his back ached and he was exhausted from the events of the past few days. Instead, he was sprawled out on the ground on top of a blanket, his head in Renna's lap. Renna sat back-to-back with Sam, and Burt curled up atop a second blanket a few feet from Kurt.

"What do you think is happening in there?" Renna asked quietly while carding her fingers through Kurt's hair.

"I can tell you exactly what's going on," came Cooper's voice. The older Anderson sat down cross-legged near Renna's feet. He smiled apologetically, explaining his previous absence by letting them know he and Alyssa had headed back to the hotel where his in-laws were with their children.

"That's right. You've been in meetings like this before," Kurt sat up with the help of Renna's steadying hand.

"Well," Cooper chuckled. "Never anything quite like this. You've outdone yourselves with this one. No, right now they're sitting around a big, round table, shouting over each other about the points of Blaine's proposal. If you've ever wanted to see a bunch of grumpy old white men in a professional wrestling match, this is the closest you'll ever get.

"Judging by how long they've been in there, I would guess the vote is pretty evenly split. After this long in that room, nobody is going to change their mind now, so they might as well vote on it. Since there's an even number of voters with that ass wipe who tortured you missing, any ties will be broken by my father's vote. You better hope that your boyfriend did enough to convince them, Kurt. Because as selfish as my dad might be, and as much as he might want to have me and my kids in his life, he would never vote to rule a country without this segregation that is so deeply ingrained in him."

Cooper's words only made Kurt more anxious. He knew what Blaine was capable of, and did not doubt him for one second, but there was only so much Blaine could do if it came down to a tiebreaker. "You know the Council members, Cooper. Do you think that there's any possibility this could pass?"

"I think-"

Kurt would never know what Cooper thought, though, because just then, the heavy double doors of the Council building creaked open, and the Council filed out.

The tension in the air could have been cut with a knife. The collective bated breath of the crowd hung over them like a balloon about to pop.

Kurt's blood rushed through his veins, but unlike everyone else, who was watching the Chancellor, he only had eyes for Blaine. Kurt rose from the ground and walked toward the building in a sort of trance, stopping a few feet short of the line of security that still surrounded the building.

Blaine was the last person to come out, the large doors closing behind him with an ominous finality. Kurt searched eagerly, but Blaine's face gave nothing but edginess away as he scanned the crowd. Blaine spotted Kurt standing just off to the side, at the front of the mass of people, and broke into a run, slipping through the police officers to get to Kurt.

Kurt looked at him with expectant eyes, his heart beating fast enough and hard enough to pound right through his rib cage. Protesters shifted their anxious gazes from the Chancellor to where Blaine had approached Kurt. They gathered around, giving them a wide berth, but watching curiously.

Blaine, mouth twitching, grabbed Kurt by the back of the neck and dipped him low for a passionate kiss.

Kurt gasped into his mouth, fingers clutching at Blaine's arms like a lifeline. A kiss so victorious could only mean one thing.

"We did it," Blaine whispered against Kurt's lips before righting him. Then, without breaking his hold on Kurt, he turned to the crowd and shouted, "WE DID IT!"

Everyone, even some of the officers, cheered and jumped up and down in triumph. People who had never voiced their support for the Resistance were taking part in the celebration. It seemed as though they were afraid before. Not anymore.

Kurt was pulled into hug after hug, but his hand never left Blaine's, until Blaine found Cooper.

Coming face-to-face with his brother after all this time, after all of those unresolved feelings, was momentous for Blaine. Their reunion was emotionally charged, even more so than it would have been, considering the circumstances. Blaine and Cooper did not talk much, but there would be time for that later. Their biggest regrets had been wiped away. They had been given a second chance.

On the other side of Kurt, his friends were just as emotional. In the heat of the moment, Renna had kissed Sam, and now he was following her around like she hung the moon.

Burt and Kurt shared a poignant moment, realizing that everything they had fought for together was finally happening. No words were exchanged between the two, but none were needed.

The Council members who had been in favor of the proposal rushed into the crowd and reunited with their loved ones who they had not seen in months or years. The other Council members stood on the steps of the Council building awkwardly, watching the scene in front of them and wondering what their lives were about to become.

Eventually, the Chancellor succeeded in calming the crowd.

"Blaine, please join me," he called out to his son. Blaine complied, grudgingly leaving Kurt behind. The roar of the crowd swelled as Blaine took the stage.

"As you know, the proposal has been accepted. Effective immediately, the interclass communication law will no longer be enforced. Other changes will take place over the next few days, with more to come.

"I do not fully support this movement, and cannot uphold it to the best of my ability since I am not completely invested in it. However, I do know that sometimes, unwanted change is necessary. That is why I have stepped down as Chancellor, and my son Blaine will take my place."

A wave of gasps and whispers ran through the audience.

" _Shut the fuck up_!" Kurt muttered disbelievingly, just loud enough to elicit laughs from the people standing around him, including a toothy grin from Blaine, who threw him a wink.

"Blaine has the best interests of the people at heart, and will be the best person to carry out these changes. It has been an honor serving you. Thank you."

A few stray claps floated through the air. Blaine replaced his father at the front of the Council, and the quiet applause transformed into wild cheering.

"As the law stands, I automatically assume the position of Chancellor because of who my father is. However, I just spent sixteen hours fighting to prove that the family someone is born into should not dictate who they are or how others treat them. The same goes for me. I believe a leader should be elected by his or her people. I will temporarily fill the position of Chancellor, and in the coming weeks, we will hold a vote. The winner will become the new Chancellor." A rumble of approval passed over the crowd. "But for now...forget about that." Blaine waved his hand as if to brush it off. "Let's party!"

And party they did. Until long after the sun came up, people were dancing and celebrating in the streets, relishing in the major victory that would change their lives.

It seemed as though every last person in attendance wanted to meet Blaine, to thank him or shake his hand or tell their story. Blaine only wanted Kurt, though. To hold him, to make sure he was feeling okay, to celebrate with him. He politely greeted everyone and listened to their praise and accepted their handshakes and hugs, taking comfort in knowing that Kurt was surrounded by people who loved him and that, at the end of the day (or beginning of the day, as it was), he would be going home with Kurt.

Mid-morning found the square in front of the Council building nearly emptied as protesters made their way home, exhausted yet excited. Blaine bid goodbye to the last of the people in line who wanted to meet him, and finally made his way over to the small group of people he longed to see most.

"There he is, the man of the hour! Blaine! Blaine! Blaine! Blaine!" Sam, Wes, and Cooper led the chant.

"It was not my idea to introduce them to each other, I swear!" Kurt addressed Blaine, throwing up his hands defensively, but glancing lovingly at the three dorks all the while.

Blaine made his rounds within the group. Renna hugged him and gave him a tearful kiss on the cheek. Sam gave him a "bro hug," and thanked him. Wes threw an arm around his shoulder and asked if this meant that Kurt was going to be around more, and if he should invest in a new pair of noise-cancelling headphones. Burt wrapped Blaine in a fatherly hug, telling him how proud he was of what he had accomplished. Kurt gave him a quick kiss and told Blaine how much he loved him with the promise of more later (kissing _and_ talking, that is). Blaine did not want to release Kurt from his tight embrace, but Alyssa cut in. She took Blaine by the hands and told him that she had not ever had a brother before, but that she appreciated how he was coming into her life with a bang. He promised her they would spend time getting to know one another, and he felt his heart burst at the idea of his family expanding. He had a sister and nephews now, something he never thought he would have.

Then Blaine turned to Cooper.

"Hey, squirt. You are amazing. I never thought I would forgive myself for leaving you in this position, but you are kicking it in the ass, so I guess I'll just give myself a little pat on the back!"

Blaine laughed and hugged his big brother.

"I forgive you, Coop. You had to do what was right for you. And look how happy you are now."

"Happier now that I've got you back."

Out of the corner of his eye, Blaine saw Kurt put a hand over his heart and knew that he was feeling the same way.

"Oh, my precious family back together again!" Mrs. Anderson cooed, coming up behind the boys and interrupting the moment.

Mr. Anderson followed right behind her. "What do you boys say to a family dinner tonight?" He asked. Everyone stared at him in disbelief, and Blaine started shaking with anger.

"Father, those were some nice things you said about me earlier, but that doesn't erase what you've done. Nothing can. You authorized the torture of Kurt, who you knew meant more to me than anyone. You stood by and watched it happen. That is unforgivable to me."

Mr. Anderson gaped at Blaine, and Mrs. Anderson turned helplessly to her other son. "Cooper, you have always been the sensible one. Your father was just following the letter of the law. You cannot blame him for what happened to this boy," she waved her hand in Kurt's direction. Kurt looked like he was ready to lunge at her throat, but he held back. He knew this was a conversation that had to happen between the Andersons.

Cooper stood taller, angling his body offensively. He could not even bring himself to address his father, so he spoke directly to the woman pleading her case in front of him.

"I can actually blame him, mother, because it was entirely his fault. And you are no better, defending him. How dare you call us family? You are supposed to protect family at all costs, to fight for them tooth and nail. You never fought for me. You didn't protect Blaine. As far as I'm concerned, you are not my family," Cooper put his arms around Blaine and Kurt. " _This_ is my family. Someday when you are ready to apologize for what you've done, and you see the error of your ways, maybe then I will consider allowing you back in. But until then, you will stay away from us."

His parents were taken aback. They looked from person to person in the circle, hoping to find someone to show them some mercy. One by one, the group turned away from the ex-Chancellor and his wife.

Without another word, Mr. and Mrs. Anderson left, tails between their legs, and Cooper and Blaine shared a look conveying emotions that only they could understand.

Kurt grabbed Blaine's sleeve as he swayed on his feet.

"Babe, I need to lay down," he told Blaine quietly.

"Okay, we need to change your bandages anyway. Let's get you home." He looked to Burt for approval.

"Come visit me tomorrow," was his only stipulation.

Kurt and Blaine said their goodbyes and walked the short distance to Blaine's house in happy, tired silence.

They washed up and changed into pajamas, even though it was not yet noon. Blaine changed Kurt's bandages, and they slid into bed.

Blaine lay on his back, and Kurt lay on his front, arm draped over Blaine's chest and head on Blaine's shoulder.

"How are you feeling?" Blaine checked in.

"Kind of weird," Kurt admitted.

Blaine immediately shifted, trying to make Kurt more comfortable. "What can I do?"

Kurt just smirked. "No, I'm feeling weird because I'm dating the Chancellor."

"Is dating an authority figure a turn on for you?" Blaine joked, running a fingertip over the shell of Kurt's ear.

"Blaine. Literally everything you've done in the past 36 hours is a turn on. You're a fucking rockstar."

That made Blaine laugh. "You're ridiculous, Kurt. You're the rockstar."

"We're not having this argument again. We will have to agree to disagree."

"Deal," Blaine kissed Kurt's cheek, then he sighed. "If you think it's weird to be dating the Chancellor, try being me."

Kurt's face grew serious. "Are you ready for it, Blaine? Be honest with me."

"I am. I really am. But it's only temporary, anyway. I'm sure the people will elect someone else."

"Now you're being ridiculous. There is nobody more perfect for the job than you."

"You know your support means the world to me, don't you?"

Kurt answered with another kiss.

Silence fell over them as they cuddled together.

"Blaine, are you still awake?" Kurt asked a while later.

"Mmm."

"Are you ever afraid that White will come back for us?"

Blaine blanched at the fear in Kurt's voice. He pulled him a little closer. "Sure I am. But try not to be scared, baby. I've doubled our security. Even if he tries, he shouldn't be able to do anything to us."

"You're the best. You think of everything."

"Anything to keep you safe."

It was quiet for a long time before Blaine spoke again.

"Kurt, are you still awake?"

"Mmm."

"We actually did it."

He felt Kurt smile against his chest.

"We actually did it."

\---

Changes were happening, and they were happening fast. Right away, the interclass communication laws were eradicated, as were the laws capping family income based on Class. Restricted activities were re-opened to all Classes. The Council was in the process of changing the ascent and descent laws, attempting to make changing Classes more accessible, and automatically available to those who wanted to marry. Of course, Blaine's end goal was to completely eliminate the Class system, but he needed to ensure that society was stable enough to withstand such an upending. It would take time, but he would see it through to the end if it was the last thing he did.

Blaine fulfilled some personal promises as well, such as providing the families of those his father had forced him to convict by giving them food or a job or a home. This included the girls whose attack on him had resulted in his transfer to Dalton. He was nervous to confront them, but they ultimately apologized and admitted that although nothing could ever replace their mother and little sister, Blaine was redeeming himself every day. Thankfully, after the closure he found with the girls (not to mention the amends he made with Calen, his ex-roommate, who apologized profusely for hurting Blaine and promised he would sober up), Blaine's nightmares became less frequent and less intense.

The other major change Blaine enacted immediately directly affected the Council. The changes were based on something Kurt had mentioned a while back, and Blaine strongly agreed that the lawmakers should represent the people, and that the current makeup of the Council (twelve High Class men) was not representative of the diversity of the nation.

Blaine disbanded the current Council and appointed four High Class, four Middle Class, and four Low Class Council members from a variety of ages, genders, and races. Eventually, the people would vote to elect these representatives as well, but for the time being, Blaine tried to fill the seats to the best of his ability.

The night Blaine initiated this change, he began his search for Council members. On Saturday morning, Blaine delivered food to a nearby Low Class village as he always did, then he drove over to Kurt's, where he now usually spent his Saturdays helping out wherever needed in the market or at Burt's shop.

After serving dinner to the neighborhood, he and Kurt settled in on the threadbare couch that was stuffed in the corner of Kurt and Burt's room.

"I'm changing the Council," Blaine announced before detailing his plans to Kurt.

"That's really great, Blaine. It's amazing to see all of our ideas actually coming to light."

"That's exactly what I've been thinking. You're the reason I have all these ideas. You're the brilliant mind between the two of us. Would you consider serving on the Council as one of the Low Class representatives?"

Kurt gave the offer some thought before responding.

"I'm honored that you would even ask, but that's just not me, Blaine. I wouldn't be happy with a life politics. I'm content just being the brains behind the operation." His eyes drifted across the house and fell on his father. "I know just the person to ask, though…"

A few weeks later, with Burt taking up one of the Council seats, the final election for Chancellor was held.

Blaine won in a landslide.

\---

Kurt Hummel marked many of the major milestones in his life by things that Blaine had done. He used to consider the moment everything changed to be the day Blaine had written _YES_. Or the day Blaine presented him with his first rose. Or the day Blaine announced on a live national broadcast that they were involved in a forbidden romance. Or the day Blaine threw himself in front of a whip for him and stood up to his father. But now, Kurt could definitively say that the moment everything changed was the day that Blaine became Chancellor. Everything Blaine did with his new role opened up a whole world of possibilities for Kurt's future.

Over the past few weeks since Blaine's proposal passed, Kurt had spent half of his nights at home, and half at Blaine's. They were happy to be together, and were as in love as ever, but had been so focused on Blaine's job that they had yet to talk about how their relationship would be affected by all of the changes taking place. Kurt knew that Blaine had not even thought about it; he had been so wrapped up in his new career.

Blaine loved him unconditionally, Kurt was sure of that, he just was not sure exactly how Blaine saw their future unfolding. Did Blaine see them marrying some day? Having children together? Living together? He had to know that Blaine was on the same page as he was, and he could not wait any longer to have that discussion.

Blaine was busy almost every night of the week, but loved coming home to find Kurt already snuggled in his bed on nights when Kurt stayed over, and loved Kurt waking him briefly in the mornings for a goodbye kiss. Kurt loved waking up to Blaine, but he missed their talks, their movie marathons, their singalongs at the piano.

Despite how much Kurt missed having Blaine around, he understood how important it was for Blaine's to dive headfirst into being Chancellor. He told himself every day that he just had to be patient, that this would not last forever. In the meantime, though, Kurt decided to be selfish and ask for just one night with Blaine.

So before leaving for the market one morning, he left Blaine a note.

_B,_

_Don't stay late at work this evening. I want to see you tonight. We need to talk._

_-K_

Two hours later when he woke up and read it, Blaine's heart dropped. People only said "we need to talk" when they wanted to end their relationship. His mind shifted into overdrive, trying to figure out why Kurt would want to break up with him.

His first horrible thought was that Kurt had finally gotten what he wanted out of Blaine, and now that Blaine had successfully passed the proposal, Kurt could cut things off with him. Blaine pushed that thought out of his head instantly, though, because it was Kurt he was talking about. Kurt, whose love he could never doubt.

Then it came to him.

Blaine had been so consumed by work that he had not given much attention to his relationship. Sure, he always made sure to kiss Kurt goodnight when he came home, and he told Kurt he loved him every day by leaving a note with Kurt's morning rose, but they had hardly seen each other for the past few weeks.

Half-dressed and still groggy, Blaine pulled at his hair in aggravation. Without realizing it, he had taken Kurt's love for granted, and now, Kurt must have had enough.

Reality came crashing down on Blaine like a thousand pound weight as he realized just how lucky he was to have Kurt in his life.

The stars had, against all odds, aligned to bring and keep Kurt in his life. Blaine had never done anything extraordinary to earn Kurt's love. In fact, when they first met, Blaine was a blundering idiot in front of him. He was undeserving of the magnificent man that he was dating. Kurt did everything for him, and he gave nothing in return. No wonder Kurt did not want him anymore.

He wanted nothing more than to drive over to Kurt's and fall to his knees, begging Kurt to forgive him, but his responsibility as Chancellor kept him from doing that.

So Blaine went to work, consumed with sadness and obsessed with thoughts of what his life could be like without his other, better half. It was extremely difficult for Blaine to make it through the day, which he spent counting down the minutes to the time when he could go promise Kurt that he would work harder to give him the attention he deserved, and beg him to give him a second chance.

At exactly 5:00, when the Council building closed, Blaine tried to bolt out the door, but an urgent matter caught him at the entrance to his office. His mind elsewhere, Blaine rushed through resolving the problem, and ran home, only an hour later than he intended.

Upon arrival, he discovered that his housekeeper had let Kurt in already. The house smelled like dinner and the soft sound of music drifted through the air, punctuated by the clinking of dishes.

Blaine turned the corner to the kitchen to find Kurt clearing the table.

"Oh! Blaine, you're here! Let me reheat some food for you."

Blaine blinked in confusion. "You made dinner? But where is Anthony?" He asked about his chef.

"I told him to take the night off," Kurt chewed at his lip and watched Blaine carefully. "I hope that's okay. I wanted to cook for you tonight so we could have a special night. But you didn't come home right away so the food got cold. I started to clean up because I wasn't sure when you'd be coming back."

Blaine wanted to hit his forehead in frustration. He had screwed up again.

"I'm sorry! I got your note and I tried to leave on time, but something came up and I got stuck at the office for another hour. I'm sorry I ruined dinner, Kurt," Blaine's heart contracted painfully as he watched Kurt reheat his food. He just could not get anything right.

Kurt smiled, but did not say anything as he served Blaine's food and sat down with him as he ate.

"How was your day?" asked Kurt.

Blaine was too nervous to give more than a one word response. In fact, he could hardly eat at all. His stomach was in knots, anticipating the talk that was to come.

He forced down half of what was on his plate and looked at Kurt. His handsome, perfect Kurt whom he was on the verge of losing.

"Your note said you wanted to talk?" Blaine's hands were shaking and he started to sweat.

"Yeah," Kurt frowned, eyeing Blaine's reaction. "I want to talk about us. Blaine...you're white as a ghost. Are you okay?"

Blaine shook his head.

"Okay, come on. Let's go sit on the couch."

This was bad. This was really bad. He sat as far away from Kurt as he could stand on the small sofa, wrapping his arms around his middle. He could not take his eyes off of Kurt. What if this was the last time he saw him?

Before Kurt could say anything, Blaine started apologizing profusely.

"I am so sorry I've been so absent lately. I haven't been the best partner I can be, and I haven't been giving you the love and attention you deserve. Kurt, I should have never taken advantage of how you feel for me and pushed you and our relationship to the back burner. I understand why you want to leave me," his eyes fell to his lap, brimming over with tears. His whole body shuddered upon voicing his greatest fear.

Kurt's response was the absolute last thing Blaine expected. He laughed. Not just a giggle, but a full, hearty laugh.

Blaine recoiled from Kurt and curled in on himself, shaping his body into a ball.

"How is this funny?" Blaine's voice was small and broken.

Kurt stopped laughing when he heard Blaine's tone. He scooped the other man into his arms and kissed his face, a smile still lingering on his lips. Blaine was as confused by his affection as he was Kurt's laughter.

"It's funny because you apparently think I'm breaking up with you when I actually came here tonight to tell you that in my vision for the future, you're woven into every last piece. I came here tonight to ask you if you felt the same about our path forward, to see if you also saw us together, years from now, still facing the world side by side."

Blaine's jaw hung open.

"You - I - you - what?"

Kurt wrapped his arms around Blaine. "You ridiculous boy. You must know by now how insanely in love with you I am."

Blaine still floundered for words. "But I - you can't...I've been neglecting you in favor of my job. I'm hardly ever home, and when I am, I'm distracted. I'm not giving you what you need."

"Blaine. Stop being so self-deprecating and look at me." Kurt took Blaine's face in his hands and held it in place to keep Blaine's eyes on his. "Your job is the most important thing in our world right now. For both of us. You break your back day after day to ensure that the society we live in is what we've only ever dreamed of. Don't you see? Everything you're doing is for us. You're making it possible for us to have a future together. So yeah, maybe you're not around as much as I would like, but I know it won't be that way forever. All I need from you right now is for you to keep fighting for us. To kiss me every day. To come home to me every night. And to never stop telling me you love me. That's more than enough."

Blaine could hardly believe what he was hearing. "But I thought...you said you didn't want to be my boyfriend?"

Kurt laughed again. Blaine was really starting to wonder what was so funny.

"Are you still on about that? I thought you would have figured it out by now. Back then, when I said that, there was no hope for us out here in the world, babe. I couldn't allow myself to call you my boyfriend because it was one more connection to you. It was one more thing that would make my inevitable life without you unbearable."

"That's really all?"

" _All_?! That was everything at the time."

Blaine was the one to laugh this time. "Okay, but now..." he left the phrase hanging in the air.

"Now I have the most amazing boyfriend who is better than anything my wildest imagination could have created."

Blaine glowed. He pushed himself off of Kurt to dig around in the coffee table drawer. "I guess now would be an appropriate time to give you this."

Kurt stared at the small, black box. "Please tell me that's not an engagement ring."

"Of course it's not! We're only eighteen, that would be crazy!"

Kurt let out a relieved laugh and took the package. He lifted the lid and a smile spread across his lips.

Nestled in the soft black velvet was an ornate gold key.

"You're giving me a key to your house? There's always someone here who can let me in, but I appreciate the symbolism." A strong surge of wanting coursed through Kurt. He leaned forward to kiss Blaine, but Blaine was shaking his head.

"No, it's not a key for my house. I probably shouldn't have - I just thought - it would be so nice...This place is way too big-"

"What are you saying, Blaine?"

Blaine cleared his throat and attempted to collect his thoughts. "I wanted something that could be ours together, not something my parents gave me. You shouldn't have to be so far from home. Plus, I can't stand having you this close to my father. White wouldn't know where to find us, either. I think you'll love it, Kurt. It has so much character-"

"Are you telling me you bought us a house?"

Blaine nodded shyly, unable to read Kurt's expression. "I know I should have asked you first, but...it's perfect. Please don't be upset."

Kurt lurched forward to kiss Blaine, cutting off his rambling.

He leaned his forehead against Blaine's and whispered against his lips. "How could I be upset when you're so damn thoughtful? You bought me a fucking house, Blaine. You bought me a house so we can be together out of the way of the evil in our lives."

Blaine's smile lit up the room. "It's not like it was a totally selfless move. There's definitely something in it for me." He wiggled his eyebrows.

Kurt shifted and crawled into Blaine's lap. "So I take it this means we're on the same page regarding our future together?"

Blaine responded with a kiss, sliding his hands under Kurt's shirt, carefully running his fingers over the healing scars on his back.

Kurt moaned, his eyelids fluttering shut. To give Kurt's body time to heal, he and Blaine had not been intimate since before his run-in with White. Kurt was dying for Blaine's touch.

"Do you want to go see the house?" Blaine asked excitedly.

"Maybe later," Kurt replied, sliding his hand up Blaine's thigh and licking his lips tantalizingly. "Right now, I really need you to take me to bed and make the sweetest fucking love to me."

Blaine groaned, growing hard under Kurt. "You don't have to ask me twice."

\---

The following day while bartering over one of his most recent designs with a haughty-looking woman, Kurt noticed a strange buzzing coming from his bag. He finally settled on a price that he was satisfied with, glad to be rid of the woman who treated him like scum, presumably because of his Class status or his relationship with Blaine.

Though more people had been coming out in support of the Resistance (even those who had kept tight-lipped about it in the past), there were still a few traditionalists who turned their noses up at Kurt because they recognized his part in the changes happening in society. That was the downside of dating Blaine, he thought. Everyone knew who he was, for better or for worse.

Kurt settled back on his stool, chatting easily with Sam when he heard the buzzing sound again. He leaned forward, digging through the pockets of his bag to find the culprit of the mysterious sound. He located the source after rummaging fruitlessly for a minute. A sleek, black item was in his hand as he pulled it out of the bag. A cell phone.

"Where did this come from?" He mused aloud, knitting his eyebrows together in confusion.

The offending object started vibrating again, the screen lighting up brightly. Kurt glanced at the display and shook his head, laughing in disbelief.

_From Blaine:_

_Good morning, sunshine! I found a way for us to stay connected even when I'm working all day. Love you, baby._

_From Blaine:_

_Hope you sell a lot of your amazing designs today!_

_From Blaine:_

_Tell Sam I said hi!_

Kurt couldn't believe Blaine's nerve. He had turned down Blaine's offer to give him a cell phone in the past. Now Blaine was being stealthy and using their relationship as leverage to get Kurt to accept it. Kurt figured out how to unlock the phone and navigated his way to the text messages.

_From Kurt:_

_This is low, even for you, you sneaky man._

Blaine's response came almost immediately.

_From Blaine:_

_You know you love me._

_From Blaine:_

_I bought you a house. I think we're long past the point of you refusing to accept things from me._

_From Kurt:_

_Fair point._

_From Blaine:_

_Plus, my money is your money. Feel free to buy me whatever you want with it. ;)_

_From Kurt:_

_Deal. How is your day going?_

"Oh great. You're going to be even more insufferably in love now!" Sam complained when he saw Kurt's newfound way of communicating with Blaine.

"You're just jealous," Kurt retorted.

"Hopefully not for long," Sam smirked.

"What?!" Kurt shrieked, lurching forward to cling onto Sam's arm. "Did something happen with you and Renna?"

After the Resistance march, Sam had not reported any news on the romance front with Renna, and Kurt assumed the budding romance had fizzled out.

"She came by the market the other day when you were over at Blaine's. We went for a walk and had a little picnic, and there may have been some sparks flying," Sam shrugged lazily, though his huge smile gave his true feelings away.

"Wow, Sam. That's really great. You know how much we love Renna."

"Oh my god, you're turning into one of _those_ people!"

"One of what people?" Kurt narrowed his eyes.

"The ones who say 'we' instead of 'I' as if they and their partner have merged into one big, annoying, in-love person."

"Oh, shut up and let me be happy!" Kurt joked, turning back to his last text, which still sat unanswered.

_From Kurt:_

_Hello? Is this thing on?_

Still receiving no response, Kurt went back to his sales. As the hour dragged on without hearing from Blaine, Kurt started to worry. Finally, the phone screen lit up again with a text.

_From Blaine:_

_Wes is on his way to pick you up. You need to get here now._

The air was sucked from Kurt's lungs. Something was seriously wrong.

_From Kurt:_

_Are you okay?_

_From Blaine:_

_I'm fine. Everyone is fine. I just need you to get here as soon as possible. Be ready for Wes in 20 minutes._

\---

Blaine paced the hallway just inside the main doors to the Council building as he waited for Kurt and Wes to arrive. Guards surrounded him, and he knew that on the street outside, more awaited Wes and Kurt.

Everyone was on high alert. There had been a breach in security on his property, and though the perpetrator had been caught, the head of Blaine's security team worried that he may not have been working alone.

The doors opened and nine guards flooded in, forming a protective barrier around Kurt and Wes. Kurt was pale and tense, and his eyes darted around nervously. When Blaine rushed toward him and took Kurt into his arms, though, both men melted as the tension they had been holding in their bodies washed away.

"You're okay," Blaine said, as if reassuring himself. "Someone tried to break into my house, Kurt. Thank god you weren't there today. You could have been hurt, oh god-" He broke off in a choked sob.

"I'm okay," Kurt reiterated. "What happened to the person who tried to break in?"

"He's in one of the cells downstairs." Blaine pulled away from Kurt's embrace but held onto his hands tightly.

"Did you just want me here to make sure I was safe?" Kurt asked softly so that only Blaine could hear.

"That's not the only reason, though I feel so much better having you here with me," he kissed Kurt's hand. "I actually need your help. I have to decide what punishment is most appropriate for the man who tried to break in."

"Why would you need me to help you with that?"

Blaine looked at him nervously. "Because. It's White."

\---

Standing outside the cell door, Kurt thought he was going to be sick. Just inside sat the man who had brutally tortured him and forced his boyfriend to watch.

"You don't have to go in and see him, Kurt," Blaine said for what seemed like the hundredth time.

Kurt nodded once. He gripped Blaine's hand so hard he worried he would cut off his circulation. "I do. I need to put this to rest. I need to be with you when you do it."

Blaine kept Kurt close by his side as they entered the room. Seeing White made his stomach turn over, but something about the shackles that bound the man's arms to the wall at odd angles was quite satisfying.

The man looked up at Kurt and Blaine as they walked in and sneered as he saw who it was.

"It's too bad you weren't at Anderson's today, Hummel. I had a nice surprise ready for you."

Kurt backed away involuntarily, but Blaine stood his ground, ignoring White's commentary.

"White. You are being sentenced on counts of torture and abuse of power. Your punishment is as follows: A month in solitary confinement followed by life in prison. All of your assets will be liquidated and turned over to the government, as well as your savings. Those funds will be distributed across a selection of Low Class communities who are struggling to get by. The money will be used to build houses for those who don't have shelter, to provide food to those who don't have enough to eat, and to provide medical care for those who don't have insurance. Furthermore, a scholarship fund will be set up using your money in the name of the Resistance for Low Class students who wish to attend a university."

White was outraged. "You can't take my money! You can't use it for a bunch of Low Class scum who don't deserve it!"

"They are so much more deserving than you. Maybe your years in prison will help you realize that. You will never hurt us or anyone else again, White."

White growled, fighting against his restraints as Blaine turned to leave.

"Oh, and one more thing," Kurt stepped toward White, two guards still between them. They grabbed the prisoner by his arms and effectively stopped him from being able to move at all. Kurt took a deep breath and closed the distance between himself and White. "While you're burning in hell, you won't do so as High Class." Kurt cut the purple band from around White's wrist and replaced it with a yellow one. He pivoted on his heel to follow Blaine. He cast one last glance back at White, who was staring at his wrist like he wanted to rip it from his body.

Kurt smiled sadly. "You thought you were better than us, but it turns out we all burn the same."

\---

After the incident with White breaking into Blaine's property, he and Kurt moved to their new home immediately. The old, Victorian-style house sat back from the road and was obscured by trees, and despite Blaine's fears, Kurt loved every inch of it from the wraparound porch to the third floor turret.

The boys had quickly made the house their own, and were now hosting their first dinner party. Blaine's official inauguration as Chancellor had been the previous night, and the cameras and constant requests for interviews had made the entire celebration party daunting rather than enjoyable.

With the help of their chef, Kurt and Blaine had pulled together an after-after party for a more intimate and meaningful gathering.

Currently, all of Kurt and Blaine's friends and family sat around an oval table in their dining room. Burt, Sam, Renna, Wes, Cooper and Alyssa and their children. Kurt beamed at the sight of everyone he loved sitting in one room. He clinked his glass delicately before rising to his feet.

"I'd like to say a few words." He pulled Blaine to his feet next to him, wrapping an arm around his boyfriend. "The only reason we are here today, able to sit in the same room, share a meal, and converse freely, is because of what this man has done. Most of you know this already, but when I met Blaine, he was nowhere near the person he is today. I am so proud of how far you've come, Blaine. You are a force to be reckoned with, and I am forever grateful that you chose our cause to fight for.

"I once told you that fighting for equality was the most important thing in my life, that it would always come first, before family, and even before you. So what did you do? You fused yourself with what was most important to me, becoming something nothing and nobody could compete with.

"You are the most incredible person, Blaine Anderson, an amazing boyfriend, and you will be an equally amazing Chancellor. I trust you with my life. Now the citizens of this country can trust you with theirs, too."

Kurt raised his glass to toast, but Blaine cut in.

"I cannot be praised for anything that I do without giving credit to this guy, right here. The only reason I had the guts to do what I've done, the only reason I am standing here today, is because of Kurt. You all know Kurt, so I don't need to tell you how special he is. But we do need to recognize him for everything he has done for me, and in turn, for you." Blaine raised his glass. "To the most spectacular partner life could have given me. To Kurt!"

"To Kurt!"

Kurt and Blaine were together and happy, surrounded by their loved ones in the home they were making together. Nothing could have been more perfect.

\---

"It's just like your vision," Kurt told Blaine, walking down the sidewalk hand-in-hand after dinner and a show at the theatre. "The one you confessed to me at Dalton. It was one of the first times you mentioned our future, and you didn't know at the time, but hearing you talk about it tore me up inside. It was such a profound moment for me. It was the first time I allowed myself to consider what our future together could have been had the circumstances been different. It was also the first time I mourned the loss of what we could have had. Now that everything has changed, I wanted to make that vision come true."

Kurt had set up the date to exactly mimic what Blaine had described his vision.

_"I can picture it now...walking down the street with you, dressed in my clothes that you designed, going to dinner or a show, holding your hand, kissing you whenever I want, pretending to dodge the press but secretly trying to show off my amazing boy…"_

Blaine remembered the vision perfectly. With a full heart, he leaned down to kiss Kurt, knowing full well that a woman with a camera was lurking nearby.

They drew out the kiss so she could get some good photographs, and then they dissolved into fits of laughter.

"I'm so happy, Kurt," Blaine murmured, gazing lovingly up at him. "You've made this night perfect. An actual dream come to life. There is one last thing I want to do before we call it a night."

Forty minutes later, Kurt and Blaine stood in front of a rose bush they had just finished planting.

"Just four months ago, this all seemed so impossible, like a far off dream," Kurt put an arm around Blaine's shoulders and pulled him in. "I never allowed myself to think about what we could be, because we could never be anything. But now...everything is different. It all still seems so surreal. I'm still worried that I will wake up and find out it was all a vivid fantasy.

"When I said yes to you, I thought we could only have the rest of our time at Dalton. I thought we could only have the next three months. Now the possibilities seem endless. Tell me it's true. Tell me you think we can have the next fifty years."

Blaine looked at Kurt, the stars shining in his eyes. He plucked a single rose off of the bush in front of him, handing it to the love of his life. He kissed the corner of Kurt's mouth softly. "Baby, I think we can have forever."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. What can I say? Thank you, thank you, thank you. Thank you to everyone who has supported me on this journey throughout the past few months. And thank you to everyone who will read and continue to enjoy this in the future. It was a personal goal of mine to write over 100k words, and I made it, thanks to your encouragement! I am forever grateful for all of your kudos, bookmarks, reblogs, and your beautiful, generous comments. It has truly been a joy writing for you. 
> 
> Find me over on tumblr at xbeautifulunseenx - I want to follow you! 
> 
> And stay tuned for what's to come. ;) 
> 
> Until next time! xx


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